Aphelion's Awakening
by RobanCrow
Summary: Every thousand years, when control passes from Quasar to Aphelion or from Aphelion to Quasar, Aphelion cleanses the land of humankind. A thousand years before Jack's Epic, what events transpired to invoke Aphelion's change of heart? (Has OCs, and canon x OC ships, and all that nasty stuff. ;D /brat) Feedback is forever appreciated.
1. Please Be Professional

**Alternate Synopsis**

Captain Lucian Hewitt, while kind and gentle, showed little passion for the world and its wonders until his brigade was sent to mediate with the elves. In spite of the tension between the human and fairy races, one elf was eager to befriend him. But with the fairy creatures bent on destroying the human race, and humans fighting to overturn the prophecy and affirm their place in the world, they're swept into a war as old as Tottaus itself.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer<strong>

Radiata Stories © Square Enix and TriAce. Some of the canon cast and settings are given definition that they did not have in the game, or re-interpreted to fit the timeline. The fan characters are mine, except the dark elf Ledert who belongs to DeviantArt user Artistic-Twist (formerly ArtsyDragon), and will later be adapted to original fiction.

Please give the fan characters a chance, or even read this to cry Sue/Stu, but don't pass this up because of them. They fill the roles that mortal canon characters cannot. If I've failed them, I need to know where and how. But if you enjoy them, you'll be glad you didn't skip this. ;3

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><p><strong>Chapter One - Please Be Professional<br>**

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><p>Gil sat on the stone wall around the City of Flowers with his feather quill and leaf and grass bound notebook in hand. He scrawled a few more verses before tapping the feather against his lips. He looked around the elf region, at the bubble froggers, the gobpakkens, and the armored humans. His eyes grew wide. He dropped his quill and notebook, got up, and moved nearer to the edge of the wall. "Lord Cepheid, Lady Faunus, look!" he cried, glancing to the figures behind him, and then back at the trio approaching their home, "humans!"<p>

Cepheid floated near to where Gil knelt and examined the strangers below. He nodded to Gil.

Faunus frowned. "Why didn't they send Lady Lorant?"

"Perhaps she is preoccupied," Cepheid said.

At the crevice beneath them, Gil spied the guards already present and waiting for the humans to reach them. The older guard, Lord Nogueira's brother Zane, stiffly watched them approach. The smaller elf on the other side of the crevice, Valko, leaned against the stone wall, and seemed not to pay any mind either to Zane or the approaching humans.

"Good morning," called the tallest human when they were near enough not to shout. "I am Captain Lucian Hewitt. We are the Argent Erable brigade, and—"

"You're not welcome here," Zane snapped.

Lucian shook his head and said, "We would appreciate a moment to speak with Lord Nogueira."

"My brother will not have an audience with you," Zane insisted, raising his arms as if in defense.

Although the brigade had stopped, they made no effort to turn and leave. Gil studied the knights. The captain looked older. The placating smile on his features, and the soft, smooth tone of his voice reminded Gil of Cepheid. The captain, Gil decided, was gentle and kind. The brunette behind the captain had his head cocked to one side, and although his lips were pressed together he seemed anxious to speak. The way the brunette regarded Zane in the stalemate below, though rightly Zane was not kind in the least to them, made Gil uncomfortable to watch. He quickly turned his attention upon the last knight. It was a woman—no, a girl. She looked as old as he was, a child among adults. In spite of the already apparent tension, she smiled broadly. She had her arms wrapped about herself in what Gil's mind could only describe as a self-embrace. It was poorly veiled enthusiasm, and it occurred to Gil then that she might be as excited to see the elves as he was to see the knights.

"I don't get it," the brunette huffed, "what's the big deal?"

Zane stepped forward, his arms rising as though he would shout with both his voice and body.

"Coty," the captain said, the smile having fallen from his features, "that was unnecessary. Please restrain yourself."

Zane let his arms fall, and said nothing.

"Sorry, Captain," the knight conceded, averting his gaze from Zane's.

The captain shook his head, and glanced over his shoulder to the outspoken knight. "I'm not the one to whom you should apologize."

The knight seemed to hesitate, his eyes flicking back to Zane's, at which Zane stared directly into the eyes of the brunette and replied, "Don't waste your breath, human." He turned his attention back upon the captain. "Leave," he told them, "I have nothing more to say to you." Gil gaped at Zane. The elder elf didn't even wait for a reply before floating up from the ground and onto the wall near where Gil knelt.

"What do we do now, Captain?" the girl asked. Her cheer had also soured. The sort of self-embrace she had carried had sunk until her arms were crossed before her.

The captain looked up at the edge of the wall, as if to search for Zane. Gil realized too late that he was visible as the captain's eyes came to rest on his. The human smiled anew at the sight of him, and Gil squeaked and withdrew from his perch.

"Sorry for the trouble," came only voice yet unspoken below. Gil leaned back near the edge to see Valko standing upright and addressing the knights.

The captain again shook his head. "It's all right," he assured, "I understand. General Lorant is ill, so we were sent in her stead, but we do not have the trust of the elves as she does."

Valko nodded. He glanced up at the company on the wall, and though he didn't look at Gil, his eyes lingered there a moment before he gestured for the captain to come closer. Gil cupped a hand behind his ear to hear Valko's murmured words, but it was not enough even to hear the rasp of their breaths.

"Thank you," the captain said. He turned back to his brigade, and led the way back towards the Cuatour region.

Gil quickly looked to the figure standing beside him. "Lord Cepheid, what did Valko say?" he asked. "Did you hear him?"

Cepheid smiled. Gil knew that even in a light elf form, Lord Cepheid could hear whispers on the wind that he and other light elves could not. "He told them to visit the Forest Metropolis and speak with Vesper, the dark elf elder," came the reply, "and that he would send Nogueira to meet them there."

"Send Lord Nogueira?" Gil gasped. "Won't that make Zane angry?"

Cepheid shook his head. "Word will reach Nogueira one way or another, seedling, and he will go," Cepheid assured. "How Zane feels about it is irrelevant."

Gil didn't believe that Zane's opinion could so easily be dismissed. He turned to Lady Faunus to see if she supported what Lord Cepheid suggested, but Faunus was out of sight. When he redirected his attention back to Cepheid, he found the older figure also retreating into the City of Flowers.

"Lord Cepheid," Gil called, "wait for me!"

He collected his quill, ink, and notebook, and followed the larger light elf form into the city. Cepheid led the way over several of the elves' grass huts to the one at the peak within the wall's bounds. It was the elder's residence, and the most likely place for them to find Lord Nogueira. Cepheid set his feet on the ground outside the hut, and pulled the grass veil aside. As Gil landed behind him, Cepheid gestured inside. Both Zane and Faunus were already there, but Valko hadn't come.

"Brother, why?" Zane hissed. "Why do you insist on dealing with those wretched humans?"

"Interracial relations, especially with humans, are of the utmost importance," the light elf leader replied. "Do you want another war?"

"No, but..."

Lord Nogueira stepped towards Zane and took him by the arm. "I understand your concern," he said, "but ignoring them will only invite trouble."

Gil hugged his writing tools close, and stepped back towards the grass veil. These were serious matters, and he was sure he was intruding. He gasped as his wings came against the figure behind him, and he glanced back at Lord Cepheid. Cepheid placed a hand on Gil's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, directing him further inside.

"I'll go," Nogueira stated. "I see no harm in speaking with them, and at the very least we should see what they want."

"Fine," Zane conceded, his shoulders drooping, "but be careful, brother."

Nogueira nodded to Zane before glancing around him to Gil and Cepheid. Gil withdrew further into the larger figure behind him.

"Lord Cepheid," the light elf leader greeted, "is there something I can do for you?"

Cepheid gave Gil's shoulder another reassuring squeeze. "When you go," he said, "I would like you to take him with you."

Nogueira's gaze fixed on Gil. It dawned on Gil then whom Cepheid meant to send along, and his heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He pulled away from the hold on his shoulder, gripping his tools tighter to his person and staring up at the larger figure. "Lord Cepheid, why?"

In response, Cepheid simply smiled.

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><p>It was well into the afternoon when the knights reached the Nowem region, and now as they drew near the Forest Metropolis it was almost dusk.<p>

"Captain," Coty called, "how much farther?"

"We're almost there," Lucian replied.

"We're gonna be stuck out here all night," the brunette huffed.

Lucian chuckled. "We would have been anyway, Coty. Our mission was to visit both the City of Flowers and the Forest Metropolis." He glanced over one shoulder to the brunette and added, "Look on the bright side. We might only have to explain ourselves once."

Coty rolled his eyes.

Lucian looked over his other shoulder to the other knight. "Emilia," he said, "you've been awfully quiet since we left the City of Flowers."

"Oh," she acknowledged, "sorry, Captain."

"What's on your mind?"

"The elves," Coty answered for her. "She was making eyes at the shorter one."

"I can't help it," Emilia said. "Who knew the elves would be so—"

"Rude?"

"Perfect."

"I don't believe you," Coty snapped. "How could you like them? I mean, I'm sure they don't like you."

Emilia set her knuckles on her hip, and turned her nose in the air. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous of what?"

"Their porcelain pale skin—"

"Hah."

"—their thick hair, their fashion, and their eyes—oh, did you see them, Coty? The white of their eyes isn't white at all!"

"Yeah, I saw that," Coty replied. "It's creepy."

"Well, I think they're beautiful," Emilia said. "Unlike you."

Lucian slowed until he walked beside the younger knights in his brigade, falling in step between them. "That's enough, you two," he scolded, looking to each of them in turn. "Bicker all you like when we've returned to Radiata, but for now please be professional."

"Sorry, Captain," the knights uttered in unison.

The remainder of the trek to the Forest Metropolis was peaceful, and delightful to watch as the evening sun reflected on the Nowem River in bright red and gold, and shone between boughs filled with colorful leaves. It wasn't until the front door of the Forest Metropolis was in sight that they finally saw dark elves in the forest. Two of them were bent over the edge of the river, one with short, blonde hair, and the other with long, red hair. Lucian couldn't quite see what they were doing.

"Hello," he called.

The figures both looked back in the direction of the knights. The blonde stood first, and the red head seemed to stay partially concealed behind her.

"Hi," the blonde replied.

"We're looking for the dark elf elder," Lucian continued, "maybe you can help us."

The girl crouched low and collected a few things Lucian still could not see before making her way through the bush towards him and his brigade. The pallor of her hair contrasted well with the dark tone of her skin, and it was decorated with wooden beads that were similar to those of the bracelets she wore. Dangling by its drawstrings from the girl's fingers was a leather pouch.

When she reached the edge of the path, she asked, "Is that all?"

"Yes," Lucian said, "that's all."

"I'd be glad to," she replied. She glanced back to the river where her companion still stood. "Come on, Ledert."

The other elf hesitated, glancing down into the water before leaving the riverbank to join them on the path. The girl who had already joined them, however, was already making her way towards the entrance to the Forest Metropolis. Lucian walked briskly until he had caught up with her.

"So you're knights, huh?" the blonde asked.

"Yes," Lucian replied, "we are the Argent Erable brigade."

"Are you the captain?"

"Yes."

"That's so cool," she sighed. She beamed at him, craning her neck to meet him eye-to-eye. She was almost as short as Emilia was. "I'm Samara," she stated, and then she pulled the other elf close to her, "and this is Ledert."

"Hi," the redheaded elf commented, waving to Lucian and the knights behind them.

"I'm Lucian," he replied, and then he gestured to the two knights behind them and named Coty and Emilia in turn.

Although dusk had fallen and the sky grew dark, they found the inside of the metropolis filled with a golden glow. Fixtures embedded in the walls gave off that warm light as if by magic, and they weren't the only inviting quality. From deeper in the metropolis, Lucian could hear music. He glanced back to Emilia, whose eyes were on the ground, and arms were at her sides. She didn't seem to enjoy the unusual surroundings. Coty, however, grinned when Lucian glanced to him. He pressed his lips down from the grin into a smile, but he was still bright-eyed and searching for things at which to marvel, like the bubbles of energy the lamps emitted. He began to reach for one of them when he glanced back to find Lucian still watching him, and quickly set to adjusting his armor instead.

As they walked through the main foyer, Ledert walked ahead of them. Though the redheaded elf was moving much quicker, up a flight of stairs and seeming to leave the group, Samara still lead them in the same direction. Lucian felt as though somewhere in there he had missed an exchange between the girls, but thought little more of it. He found that most of the dark elves had set aside what they were doing to watch the knights pass through. Unlike the hardened stare they faced from the elder light elf sentry at the entrance to the City of Flowers, the dark elves in the Forest Metropolis simply watched.

"Wow," Samara remarked.

Lucian snapped back to her. Although he hadn't meant to do it, returning the gazes of the dark elves scattered about the foyer meant pitting his back almost completely to their guide. "What is it?" he asked.

Samara put a hand on his shoulder and walked around him. Lucian glanced after her, but she held him still as she said, "You have a lot of hair."

Behind them, Coty snickered, and Lucian couldn't help but smile in turn. "I do," he admitted.

"I like it," Samara said. She strolled ahead of the knights, her hands clasped behind her back, as she led them upstairs. She was leading them closer to the music, Lucian noted, and the closer they got, the more she seemed to step in time with the beat.

Although Samara was headed around a bend and up another flight of stairs, Lucian paused to get a better look at the performers. There was a drummer and a guitarist. The former, Emilia might have been staring at from behind Lucian. The drummer's open vest revealed a stomach about as well toned as Coty's. But at the latter, Lucian raised a brow. The mohawk on the guitarist's head belied the simple, goofy smile on his cheeks. Both performers seemed absorbed in the music until the drummer looked towards the knights. It was difficult to tell while there was still some distance between them, but when the drummer stopped he seemed to grip the drumstick in his upraised hand. It didn't take long for the guitarist to stop in turn.

"Aw, guys," Samara whined, stepping back down the stairs to poke her head around the corner, "why'd you stop?"

The drummer began to twirl the other drumstick around his fingers, making no effort to resume playing. The guitarist looked from the drummer, to the knights, and back. From where he sat, he shifted closer to the drummer, turned in the other performer's direction, and kicked his stool. The drummer glared at the guitarist, and the guitarist stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

"Good evening," came a voice near where the knights stood.

Lucian looked to the top of the stairwell. "Evening," he replied, nodding.

The dark elf's brow creased as she eyed the knights. She ran a hand through the gray of her hair, tucking it behind her ear, and gestured for the knights to join her upstairs. Lucian stepped around Samara, and then around Ledert as the redhead made her way downstairs. He glanced back down as she passed, to find Emilia and Coty following him, and the elf girls making their way to the performers. By the time Lucian reached the top of the stairs, the music had resumed, but he could no longer see the performers. He was disappointed not to see how the conflict had been resolved.

The woman at the top of the stairs cleared her throat, snapping Lucian's attention back to her. "I assume you're going to tell us why you're here."

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Every time I've played the game since starting this, I realize how _different_ I've made young!Gil. For the record, sabotaging his character is delightful and I encourage you all to try it sometime. :3 But realistically, a thousand years in the past, people and places are different. Through this, I aim to build Gil's skill and confidence as a poet and motivation as an assassin (the latter he is not yet).

I have a folder on deviantArt filled with drawings and such relating to the story. There's a link on my profile~ Feedback is appreciated, especially criticism, but not necessary. In the next chapter, there will be awkward plot advancement, Lucian's amazing hair, and more tiny, adorable Gil. Oh, and wine. Delicious elven wine...


	2. Who Let You in the Cellar?

**Chapter Two - Who Let You in the Cellar?  
><strong>

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><p>Lucian nodded as he studied the dark elf elder. Though she stood with her shoulders back and her chin high, she regarded them without contempt. He was about to reply when he realized she had implied that they had a bigger audience. He glanced around the room, and found the rest of their company. In the backmost corner, and difficult to see from the stairwell, stood a light elf with the same long, vine-like hair coiled around him all the way to the ground as the one they had encountered at the entrance to the City of Flowers. He stood with his hands hanging together before him, fingers loosely crossed.<p>

"Perhaps you should step inside," the dark elf elder suggested. She took a few broad steps towards the light elf, whom Lucian assumed was Nogueira, and gestured for them to follow her.

When they all stood near enough to keep their voices low, Lucian got a better look at what Emilia and Coty had already noted. The light elves' eyes indeed did not have any white at all. The red of Nogueira's eyes would look menacing if his features were not relaxed. His neutral expression, however, was much more approachable than the scowl the sentry had worn.

"Forgive my brother," Nogueira said. "He has had trying experiences with humans, but that does not excuse his intolerance."

"It's all right," Lucian assured.

Vesper looked from Lucian to Nogueira, and her eyes lingered on the light elf. "Let us proceed, Lord Nogueira."

"Of course," he replied.

Lucian nodded. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips before he began. "Forgive me if I am too brief," he said. "General Lorant and Lord Allard seem to know more about this than the rest of us, and neither is keen on providing us with the details, but recently the dwarves in the Desneuf region ceased trade with Radiata. Following this, we received reports of activity in the elf region that has the general concerned." Lucian pause, his visage drawn as it occurred to him that he really didn't have much to say on the matter.

Although he tried his best to maintain eye contact with the dark and light elf leaders, Lucian could feel those red eyes scrutinizing him at the vague accusation. "If she is the one concerned, then why were you sent in her stead?" Nogueira's expression had not changed, and his tone wasn't bitter, but Lucian knew that mask. Although Nogueira's arms still hung with his fingers casually interlocked before him, he pressed his thumbs together with such force they were white.

"She is ill," Lucian replied.

"Ill?"

"Last week, she collapsed in the library in tremendous pain," Lucian elaborated. "Until they've determined the cause, Lord Allard has ordered her to remain within castle walls. When His Majesty, Lord Pharell, decided that we should invite delegates of the fairy races to Radiata to discuss the recent unrest, General Lorant chose us to speak with you in her stead."

Nogueira's shoulders seemed to fall—not to slouch, simply to relax. Lucian frowned, wondering why the light elf leader had tensed.

"So that's what this is about," Vesper commented, drawing Lucian's attention from his musing. "Your lord thinks that talk will mend the ties that were broken."

"Or, at the very least, it will provide us with more detail so that we might avoid the same mistakes in the future."

Vesper looked to Nogueira, and they stared at one another for a moment in conversation without words.

At length, Vesper turned back to the knights. "Do you seek the attendance of the goblins as well?"

"If it's at all possible," Lucian assured, "we would be glad to have it."

"Very well," Nogueira agreed. "When?"

"Three days from now, in the afternoon."

"I'll send someone to Goblin Haven immediately," Vesper said. "They won't return until morning, but there are guest rooms along the hall to the left of where the band plays. Until we've received word from the goblins, make yourselves at home."

"Thank you," Lucian replied, stepping aside for the dark elf elder as she made her way to the stairwell.

"I must return to the City of Flowers," Nogueira informed them, only a couple steps behind Vesper, "but you can tell your general that I'll be there."

Lucian nodded, and followed the elf leaders back down to the second floor of the Forest Metropolis.

"I don't believe you," Coty grumbled from the top of the stairs. Lucian glanced back to see what had happened, to find Coty glaring sidelong at Emilia.

She huffed. "What?"

"You were making eyes at him, too."

"Like I said," she sang, "you're jealous~"

Lucian shook his head at the younger knights, and turned back to the floor below. Right in front of him, so close Lucian staggered back to avoid bumping into her, was the dark elf who had led them into the metropolis.

Samara beamed as she asked, "Are you done your knight stuff now?"

"Yes," Lucian confirmed, "for now."

At that, her smile only grew. "Does that mean you can hang out with us?"

Coty stood at the same height as Lucian from a step above him, and rested his elbow on Lucian's shoulder. "Does that mean I can take off my armor?"

Lucian slid out from beneath Coty's arm and smiled at the dark elf before them. "Yes," he replied to her, and then rolled his eyes at Coty, "and yes."

"Yes!" Coty cheered. But as quickly as the grin had found itself on his face, it disappeared. "Where do I put it?"

"I'll show you," Samara said. She reached around Lucian for Coty's hand and pulled him from the stairwell. She led Coty towards the band.

Coty glanced back at Emilia. Although he didn't speak aloud, Lucian was sure he saw Coty wink, and then mouth, "Jealous?" He disappeared after Samara into one of the rooms to the left of the drummer and guitarist, where the dark elf elder had directed them.

The performers had stopped playing again, and Vesper stood before them. The company had grown from the drummer and guitarist, now including Ledert and another small dark elf. The new face stood before Vesper, and adjusted his kerchief as she spoke with him. He seemed young for a messenger, if he was whom the elder meant to send, but Lucian was sure Vesper had her reasons to choose who she did. When the elf had finished tying his kerchief, he nodded, and headed past Lucian and Emilia and down to the main floor foyer. Lucian also continued on his way to the room in which Samara had disappeared with Coty. He glanced back to see if Emilia followed, to see what Coty saw far more often than Lucian did. Emilia's eyes were heavy-lidded, and she seemed to hold herself in embrace. She was looking at the performers, most likely the drummer as he was the one exposing his torso. Lucian shook his head. At least she was happy now.

Lucian tapped at the guest room door, but didn't wait for a response before letting himself in. The room had bunk beds on either side. Coty sat on the edge of one of the bottom bunks, and had almost finished peeling off his layer of steel. Samara was seated on the ground in front of Coty and helping him to remove his boots. When Lucian entered, both of them looked in his direction.

"Hey, Captain!" Samara greeted, setting one of Coty's boots on the ground beside her.

"Lucian is fine," he replied.

"Captain," she insisted. She cast aside the second of Coty's boots, and turned fully to Lucian. "Can I play with your hair?"

Lucian stared at her, making some effort to keep his jaw from hanging open. His lips pursed a few times before he managed, "Well, I'm not sure—"

"Yes," Coty said, and stood from the bunk. Lucian glanced to Coty as the other knight made his way over and patted Lucian's shoulder as he passed. "Captain, the correct answer is yes."

Lucian turned after Coty, but Coty had left the room before Lucian could protest. He turned back to Samara. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

With her chin resting on her knuckles, and her elbows propped upon her thighs, Samara smiled at Lucian.

"All right," Lucian conceded, "but not here."

"Of course not here," she assured him, "out there, with the band."

Lucian chuckled. He unfastened his breastplate and boots, removing his armor quickly to deny the fair-haired and still-grinning elf the chance to help him as she had Coty. All the same, she got up and took him by the arm as soon as he was free of his armor. It was left in a pile on the floor as she pulled him back to the hall.

When they stepped out, Lucian spotted that Emilia had found a seat as close to the performers as she could. She had settled beside the guitarist since Ledert was already on the other side of the drummer. Coty still stood. The marvel at the dark elves' lighting had passed, and he didn't seem as keen to be in their company as he had previously.

"Sit," Samara said. She gestured to a spot on the floor that faced the band, and Lucian obeyed. "This is Lucian. And, Lucian," she pointed to the drummer, and then to the guitarist, "these are Clay and Rad." Now that he was on the ground and she was still standing, Samara wrapped her arms around Lucian's shoulders and rested her chin on his head for a moment. "I'll be right back."

The guitarist grinned and waved, but the drummer didn't seem to pay the introductions any mind. Lucian glanced up after Samara as she disappeared into a room down the right-hand hallway.

"Light elves," Coty mumbled.

Lucian turned to Coty, and found the younger knight with his eyes on the stairwell behind them. Lucian twisted about to look. Sure enough, two light elves made their way up the stairs, one on foot and the other in flight. They were both pale, as Emilia had already noted, although Lucian couldn't recall Nogueira being as such. The one who walked had hair curling over his shoulder, and a cravat of leaves stemming from the front of his shirt. He was the same elf who had directed them from the City of Flowers to the Forest Metropolis. The elf behind him clutched a leaf-bound book to his chest, and carried a corked jar of ink in the other. He was smaller than the sentry, and made every effort to stay behind the other light elf.

"Hello again," the sentry elf greeted. Unlike their encounter in the elf region, he smiled broadly now and approached the knights without hesitation.

"Valko!" called a voice behind Lucian. From the unmasked cheer, he assumed it was Rad. "About time you came back. Who's your friend?"

The light elf sentry stepped aside, snared the smaller elf's arm, and guided him forward. "This is Gil," he replied. "Cepheid wanted him to come with us." He steered the other elf around Coty and to the open space beside Ledert.

"You're the one who was watching us," Lucian observed.

The small elf's attention fixed on Lucian, his eyes were wide and the book and inkpot he carried in his hands were shaking. Whether or not he wished to speak, he didn't.

"You'll have to excuse him," Valko said. "This is his first time outside the City of Flowers." The sentry patted the small elf on the shoulder before returning in the direction from which he had come. As if they were glued together, the little one began to follow him. The sentry glanced back to Gil. "Stay here," he instructed. "I'll only be a minute."

The small elf stared after Valko as the sentry made his way down to the first floor.

"Sit," Samara commanded.

In a quick glance down the hall, Lucian found her marching back to the group with a hairbrush in her hand and a box tucked under her arm. "You, and you," she pointed to Gil and Coty, and repeated, "sit."

The light elf complied without hesitation, sitting as close to the wall behind him as his wings would allow him to, and with as much space between him and Ledert as he could manage without isolating himself completely. Coty, on the other hand, made no effort to take his place on the floor.

Lucian shifted to face the performers again, and sighed. Glancing sidelong at the other knight, he insisted, "Coty, please."

The brunette's eyes flicked briefly between Lucian's and Samara's before he shook his head and dropped into a cross-legged seated position on the floor with the rest of the company. Emilia sniggered at the other knight, and Coty glared right back.

Although there was more than enough room between Lucian and Coty, Samara opted instead to sit behind Lucian. The warmth of her fingers brushed against Lucian's cheeks as she collected the strands of hair that fell before his shoulders.

"You're not letting her get away with that, are you?" After he spoke, the drummer's lips pressed together in a thin, flat line.

Lucian replied, "I wasn't given a choice." He dared not look in Coty's direction, already able to imagine the self-satisfied smirk the other knight would be sporting.

A few notes resonated between the company. Lucian watched the guitarist pluck the strings a few more times before looking in the drummer's direction with his large, goofy smile.

"Sorry, Rad," the drummer replied, "you're on your own."

The bubble in the guitarist's cheeks deflated. "Aw," he whined, "you're no fun." He left the guitar idle in his lap.

It wasn't long before the light elf sentry returned, and knelt between Lucian and Coty. Coty crossed his arms, and shifted away from the intrusion. The sentry had a bottle and as many cups as he could carry in his arms. The smaller light elf across from them stared at Valko, leaning forward a bit and examining what the sentry carried.

"Who let you in the cellar?" the drummer grumbled.

Valko grinned. "Lady Vesper."

"You better share," Rad called.

"Never," the sentry replied, but he was smirking. He had already worked loose the cork and was filling one of the glasses, and when the glass was full he arranged the bottle and the remaining glasses before him. He held his glass beneath his nose and drank the scent of the liquid before taking a sip.

Lucian could smell the wine, and he was sure Coty could, too. Although Coty was still in a huff having light elves on either side of him, he had the bottle in the corner of his eye. His expression seemed to soften as the smell of fruity liquor wafted into the hall. He uncrossed his arms and rested them on his thighs. Around then, Lucian saw Coty's tongue between his lips, discreetly tasting the air.

After that first sip, Valko looked to Coty. The gaze lingered a moment before he asked, "Want some?"

Coty stared back, pressing his lips together. Lucian wasn't sure if that look was a scowl, or if the other knight was simply reluctant to admit that he did want a taste. "Well..." Coty murmured, he looked past the sentry to Lucian, and at that Lucian was sure of the latter. "Captain, can I?"

Lucian hadn't yet replied when the sentry began to pour a second glass. "Not too much."

In spite of who gave it to him, Coty eagerly accepted the wine. He had downed half the glass in one gulp, at which Valko set the bottle between himself and Lucian where it was out of the other knight's reach.

"Hey," Emilia called, "can I have some too?"

Coty snorted. "You're underage."

"Just a taste!" she insisted.

"If you promise to actually taste it," Clay muttered, leveling a glare both at Valko and Coty.

Coty pulled the glass from his lips and sheepishly lowered it to the floor.

The sentry elf seemed undaunted by the drummer's disdain, filling a third glass, which he handed to the guitarist, and then refilling his own glass. He downed his wine all at once, and grinned at the drummer. Clay shook his head, leaning against the wall and rolling his eyes at the sentry.

Coty picked up his glass again and nudged Valko, who laughed as he topped it off for the knight.

"That's not fair!" Emilia stated. She gestured around the guitarist to the drummer. "He said it was okay!"

Rad held his glass out for the young knight. She looked at it, and then to him. Although the smile on his lips was itself small, the bubble in his cheeks had returned. Emilia reached tentatively for the glass, and as he released it in her grasp, her cheeks flushed.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"A taste, Rad," the drummed grumbled, "not the whole glass."

Lucian felt tension in his scalp and leaned back to ease the sensation as Samara muttered, "Why are you being such a spoilsport?"

"He's always a spoilsport," Ledert replied.

"He needs a drink," the sentry elf stated, holding the wine bottle out by the neck.

Clay glanced to the bottle. He sat upright and pointed to it with one of his drumsticks, a scowl on his lips. "That bottle's almost empty," he accused. He shook his head. "What a waste."

"If you don't want it," Rad piped in, "I'll have the rest."

When the drummer made no effort to collect the bottle, the guitarist did.

Lucian's cheeks creased in a smile. The group had come alive. Even the small light elf beside Ledert had settled. He held his book open in one hand, and a quill in the other. Either he didn't mind or hadn't noticed that the redheaded dark elf beside him was watching him write. Emilia respected the drummer's wishes, and only sipped what she had been given, while the boys were already at the bottom of their glasses and the bottom of the bottle.

The guitarist took hold of his instrument and stood. "If we're not gonna play again tonight," he said. "I'm gonna put my baby away."

Clay nodded as Rad stepped through the group and down the hall on the right. "Ladybird," Clay called, "could you give me a hand with this?" He gestured to his drum set before grabbing one end of it.

Ledert nodded. "Sure." She stood from where she knelt beside him and took hold of the other end. "Gil, can you move a bit?"

The small light elf glanced up from his notebook. He looked as though he was shaking again as he scooted closer to Coty to clear a path for them. While the small light elf watched them pass by, Coty reached for Gil's notebook and plucked it from his lap. Gil's attention snapped to Coty. "Hey!" He reached to reclaim the book, at which Coty turned his back to Gil.

Coty had thumbed the fresh page, and skimmed the contents of older pages. "You're a poet," he mused.

"Y-yes," the small elf said, withdrawing his arms. His shoulders still tensed as he watched Coty progress through the book, and ultimately flip back to the page still wet with ink.

Coty set the book in Gil's lap, planted his hands on the floor behind him, and leaned back. "Kinda flat," he commented.

"Flat?" Gil asked. He clutched the book and furrowed his brow at the page open before him. "What..." He took a deep breath before he tried again, "What does that mean?"

"You write about the same things over and over," Coty said, "in the same words. And you don't really show anything." Coty pointed to a particular spot in the book that Lucian couldn't see around Valko, and Gil clutched the book tighter. "Like here," Coty continued, "everyone knows flowers are beautiful. When you don't say what makes them beautiful, it's dull."

"It is not!" Ledert snapped. Clay lunged to support his drums as the redheaded elf marched back to the group. She stood over Coty with her hands on her hips. "You just have no imagination," she huffed. "His poetry is amazing."

"But you've never read my poems..." Gil murmured.

Ledert turned to face Gil, letting her arms fall. "Yes I have," she said, and she smiled, "while you were writing just now."

"You..." Gil gasped. He floated up from where he sat until he could stand, and dashed down the hall for the nearest open door.

Lucian winced at the sound of the door slamming shut. The performers had stopped their retreat. Valko leaned forward, curling around his knees, and he and Ledert stared after Gil. Coty's eyes fixed at a spot on the floor between Ledert's feet. Lucian looked to the other knight, disregarding the tugging feeling at the back of his head from where Samara still gripped his hair. "Coty."

Coty didn't dare to return Lucian's stare as he responded, "Yes, Captain?"

"Get in there and apologize."

Coty's eyes flicked to Lucian's. He flinched and returned his gaze to the floor just as quickly. "It was honest feedback—"

"He didn't ask for your opinion."

The guitarist was the first to escape the conflict, continuing down the hall to put away his instrument. The drummer waved the redhead over to finish carrying his drums to the same room, and she rushed to help. Coty rolled his weight off of his arms and onto his knees, and picked himself up off the ground. He shuffled in small steps towards the room to which Gil had fled and tentatively grasped the door handle. He breathed in and out, depressed the latch, and stepped inside.

"Well," Valko said, "I'm gonna get more wine." He took off similarly to how Gil had, floating from his seat and bounding back when he could stand, although where Gil took off running, Valko walked.

"So..." Emilia murmured.

"So..." Samara parroted.

Emilia took another sip of wine, and then peered into her glass. "Samara," she began, as though she was still deciding what to say. She paused before looking around Lucian to the dark elf fussing with his hair. "Which one of those cuties is your boyfriend?"

"My what?"

"Come on, now, it's gotta be one of them," Emilia teased, "So which is it? Rad or Clay?"

"You're kidding, right?" Samara laughed. "They're like brothers to me."

"Aw, that's too bad," Emilia said, and she feigned a pout. "Are they single?"

"You know," Samara mused, "I'm not sure." The blonde dark elf set some of Lucian's hair back over his shoulder. From what he could see, she had been braiding beads into it. She was already parting more of his hair to decorate as she continued the conversation. "And what about them?"

Although she hadn't been as direct, Lucian assumed whom she meant by the bewildered look Emilia gave him following Samara's comment.

"Well," Emilia said, and she pressed her lips together so they curled deviously into her cheeks when she smiled. "The captain has a whole harem in Radiata," she lied, "and Coty... Hah, Coty's never had a date in his life."

Lucian buried his face in the palm of his hand, and laughed. "You have that backwards," he corrected. "Coty had a sweetheart in the warrior guild."

Emilia's expression soured. "Ew, really?"

"It didn't work out," Lucian elaborated. "After things fell through between them, she found someone else—someone who was also in their squad. It made things awkward for him, so he left to join the knights."

"And what about you?" Samara asked, her face so near to Lucian's that Lucian felt goose bumps on his arms.

"I already told you."

"Wait, Captain," Emilia gasped, "do you mean to say you've never had a girlfriend?"

"Never."

"You can't tell me girls don't like you," the young knight stated. "You have one hanging over your shoulders as we speak."

Lucian shook his head as much as Samara's braiding would allow. "She's just in it for the hair."

"Well, it's _nice_ hair," Samara giggled. "And any girl loves a man who lets her have her way."

"Are you sure you should be sharing your secrets with me?"

"They may as well," Clay sighed. "You're one of them now."

Lucian glanced down at the braids over his shoulder. "I suppose so."

Behind Clay were Ledert and Rad. Once they had reclaimed their spots along the wall, Lucian heard a faint click behind him. He glanced over his shoulder in that direction, pleased to find as he did that Samara held his hair with more slack now. Coty had come out of the room to which Gil had fled, and eyed the group as the attention turned on him. Lucian smiled when we saw the small light elf also emerge from the room and pull the door shut behind him. There was a reddened swell around Gil's eyes, but he stayed near Coty as the knight claimed what had been Valko's spot beside Lucian. Lucian watched in wonder as the small light elf in turn sat beside Coty rather than resuming his place beside the dark elf who had defended him. With his notebook propped in his lap, Gil wrapped his arms around his knees and kept his eyes downturned.

Coty looked to Lucian, his expression relaxed but serious. "Captain," he said, "you know it's going to take you all night to undo the damage she's done, right?"

"Coty," Lucian replied, "you know this is your fault. You're going to have to help me—"

"Maybe you should wear it home like that." Coty grinned.

Lucian shook his head. That was something he wanted no part of, but it pleased him to see the knight beside him draw attention from the small light elf. Gil seemed to settle a bit as the spotlight moved on from him and his well-founded outburst.

"Aw, Valko," the drummer grumbled, "no."

Coty reached up with a grin as another bottle came down before him. Lucian glanced back to find the sentry standing over Coty, and this time with a selection of wine in his arms. It seemed the night had only just begun.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I hope you didn't mind all the Lucian here. And let me know if you see any formatting fails. FFnet seems to think formatting is delicious and noms it for breakfast. OTL In the next chapter, there will be a lot more plot, a lot more Gil, Coty's hangover, and a menace in Radiata Castle you would think has been infected by the plague.


	3. It Was an Accident!

**Chapter Three - It Was an Accident!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Gil's eyes cracked open as morning light filtered through the window. He covered his mouth with a hand and yawned deeply into it. Once he had rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and had a chance to look around the room, it occurred to him that he was not in the City of Flowers. The door of the room was made of painted wood instead of a veil of grass, and the light fixtures were dimly glowing energy in pockets in the walls rather than evening blooms strewn around the room. He pulled back the comforter secured about his person and dangled his feet over the edge of the bed. And that was another thing. There were bunk beds, also made of wood, and dressed with wolf pelts and leaf linens. He was on the top bunk, to the right of the window. On the other end of the room was another bunk. That's right, he realized, he was in the Forest Metropolis.<p>

Gil couldn't see anyone on the far bunks, and he couldn't see who lay in the bunk beneath him, so he floated to the floor to get a better look. His jaw hung open. Tangled together in the sheets below were Valko and that outspoken human. Valko's head lay on the human's chest, and he had his arms and knees drawn close. He was curled around the head end of the bed. The human had one arm around Valko's stomach, and the other extending up and around his own head. His legs jutted out from beneath the sheets, and one of them even dangled over the edge of the bed.

Gil frowned, and stepped towards the bed. He thought maybe he should wake Valko. But it was still early, the duo had been up late, and they had had quite a lot to drink. Humans, he suspected, were just as likely to be volatile creatures as the elves were when they were hung over. He thought better of it, and skimmed the room for his notebook and ink. They weren't hard to find. They sat on a desk beside the door, along with his scarf. He couldn't even remember putting them there. Gil collected the items and slipped out of the room.

"The black goblins aren't coming," said a small voice from around a bend in the hall.

Gil glanced opposite where the voice had come from first, and found a door on the other side of the hall. Otherwise, that direction was a dead end, and he slowly made his way down the hall towards the bend. The door after his, on the same side of the hall, was open. He peeked inside as he passed, and saw armor.

"Well," came a gentle voice, "thank you for your trouble."

Gil recognized the area as the hall in which they had all sat the night before. As he reached the bend, he could see the captain of the knights speaking with Lady Vesper and a small dark elf he hadn't seen in the company the previous night. The captain still had several small braids in his hair. Although it struck Gil as terribly informal, the elder didn't seem bothered by it. The small dark elf had some scuffs, mostly around his knees and elbows. He rubbed at his eyes as the conversation came to a standstill.

"You did well, Hollace," the elder said, patting the small dark elf on the shoulder. "Get some rest."

The small dark elf nodded, and trudged towards where Gil stood. When he reached the bend, he turned down the hall on the other side. That was where the dark elves in the group the previous night had gone to sleep. The elf paused at the door to the room Gil was sure the elves with the instruments had retreated to, and glanced back at Gil. His eyelids were heavy, and he seemed to squint for a moment. It was like the dark elf wasn't sure if the light elf was really there. Gil waved, and the small elf smiled and waved back before disappearing into the room.

"What the hell!" came a cry from behind Gil, followed by a crash and more indiscernible words.

Gil gripped his book and ink tightly and turned halfway back to the room behind him. The human yanked open the door, came marching out of the room, and yanked it shut again behind him. Gil flinched as the door slammed into place. He scooted back, near the wall, to let the human pass. The human, however, turned into the room beside the one from which he had come, and with much less enthusiasm closed the door behind him.

"What happened?" Lucian called.

Gil's eyes flicked to the captain's, and then back to the room into which the disgruntled knight had disappeared. He shrugged.

Valko stepped out of the room after Coty, running a hand through his vine-like hair, and strolling towards Gil. "I think we should head back to the City of Flowers," he said, sliding an arm around Gil's shoulders. He waved to the captain and Lady Vesper as he steered Gil around them and towards the stairwell. "Oh, and Captain," Valko called, "sorry about the hangover."

* * *

><p>Days had passed.<p>

As they descended to land, Gil could see heads below turn skyward. Lord Nogueira touched the ground first, and Gil lingered a foot above the ground behind him. Even so, he was still too short to meet Nogueira eye-to-eye. They stood before Radiata Castle's main gate. It was mostly bricks and metal, and the smell made Gil's stomach turn. He adjusted the strap of the satchel over his shoulder, and fingered the tassels of his scarf. It didn't help that most of the humans nearby still gawked at them.

Gil traded those tassels for Lord Nogueira's sleeve, clutching it and leaning near as some of the onlookers made their way closer to the castle. "Why did I have to come?" he asked.

The light elf leader peered at Gil, but didn't offer the young elf a response.

"You've brought company," came a voice behind the light elves.

"Yes, Lady Lorant," Lord Nogueira replied, facing their company, "this is Gil."

"Ah, yes. Gil," she sighed, "how could I forget? Cepheid is especially fond of you."

At the mention of Lord Cepheid, Gil pulled his attention from the onlookers around them to the woman who had approached them. He nodded, but maintained his place in Nogueira's shadow.

He had seen Lorant before. She visited the City of Flowers more times than he could count on his hands, and sometimes she would steal Lord Cepheid's company from him. She never stood with her feet turned inward like Lady Faunus did. She held her shoulders back, and her head high, even now. Or maybe that was especially now. Usually when Gil saw her, she was armored and scowling. Today, however, she wore a light blouse, and a pleated skirt that grazed the ground. She had smiled at the sight of Nogueira, and although the cheer in her lips had relaxed, her eyes were still brighter and more attentive than he remembered.

"How did Lucian fare?" Lorant asked.

Nogueira paused as if to think before he answered her. "I hear he dealt admirably with my brother," he reported, "and he and the younger knights fit in well in the Forest Metropolis."

"So you weren't inconvenienced terribly by my absence?"

"Not at all, my lady," Nogueira assured, and a smile briefly crossed his lips. "But tell me, are you well?"

"I'm fine," she assured. She turned towards the castle. "You haven't come all this way to make small talk with me," she said. "Let us go."

As Lorant led the way into the castle, Nogueira turned to Gil. "On your feet," he instructed.

Gil pressed his lips together, but if Lord Nogueira would ask it of him, then it must have been customary. He set his feet on the ground before passing through the entrance, and did his best to stay afoot rather than afloat as they progressed.

Gil studied the halls. The walls of stone were adorned with cloth that bore dichromatic emblems. One of them looked familiar. It had silver and syrup brown colors, and the image on it was a maple tree. There were others, too, but for its familiarity this was the one that he liked the most. Maybe it was that of the knights who had visited the elf region only days prior. It was still early in the afternoon, but not every hall had windows, so as he followed Nogueira, and Nogueira followed a woman he had seen with Lord Cepheid in the City of Flowers, he passed a few lamps. It would look a lot friendlier, he thought, if instead of burning oil the humans would light their spaces with evening blooms. On the other hand, without sunlight to feed them, the flowers might not thrive.

The castle didn't look so big from the sky, but now that they were inside it and navigating its corridors, it was huge. That was about when Lorant led them up the first flight of stairs. For Lord Nogueira, Gil walked, but he frowned at the stone beneath his soles. At the top of the stairs, the woman led them around a bend, and up another flight of stairs. When this happened a third time, Gil looked ahead to see if Nogueira paid him any mind. The light elf leader wasn't watching, so rather than walk, Gil floated to the top. The corners of his lips curled in a tiny smile as his feet touched the ground again at the top. Lord Nogueira hadn't noticed. The plaque at the top of the stairwell had a bold number four on it, the fourth floor, and here Lorant led them onward through the corridors.

A human passed in the opposite direction. He slowed to look as they passed, but continued in the direction he was headed as he did. His necktie hung undone from beneath the collar of his undershirt, but otherwise he seemed formally dressed. Gil felt that the buckled shoes and high stockings looked sharp, though the loose tie and the way the man's blonde hair fell over one eye didn't quite fit the formal image. The human turned back in the direction he was headed, and his pace doubled.

Gil bumped into Nogueira as the company ahead of him came to a standstill.

"This is the conference room," Lorant announced.

She led them inside without further commentary. The conference room was nearly full, and it was safe to assume Nogueira and Gil were the last two to arrive to the discussion. Gil's eyes passed over half a dozen humans, and Lady Vesper, and paused when they came to rest upon an orc. He was a tall, green skinned, tusked monster, and thankfully his attention was on Lorant and not the light elves who had just entered the room.

"Are we late?" Lord Nogueira asked.

"No," replied the human at the head of the table. "We're early."

Lorant led them around the table to the empty seats along the far wall. There were windows in this room, Gil noted. The room was filled more with natural light than that of the oil lamps, which made it a touch more inviting. Lorant took a seat next to the man who had spoken. Gil assumed from his regal dress and the bejeweled crown on his head that he must have been the king of Radiata. Nogueira took the seat next to Lorant, and the spot that left Gil was between Nogueira and that big, green monster. Gil peered up at the large figure, and the orc's large maw and beady eyes returned the stare.

"Sit down," Nogueira whispered.

Gil averted his gaze and quickly did as he was told. He pulled his satchel into his lap and fussed with his scarf while his eyes fixed on the table cloth. It was a nice table cloth, he imagined. It had golden trim instead of brown tassels, and the threads weren't coming loose. He bit his lips together, and let his imagination fill in even more ornate details to keep his eyes from wandering back to the bulky figure beside him.

"First," the king said, "I would like to welcome you all for coming, especially you, Chief Omaria, as I'm well aware of our differences at present. It is our pleasure to have you all here. Some of you know better than others why it has come to this, but in the end I hope we can arrive at a peaceful resolution."

Gil dared not look around to see whom the king had singled out, until she spoke. "With all due respect," she grumbled, "your knights are to blame for this."

"Our knights have done no ill," said the man across from Gil. Gil allowed himself to look, and he found the man polishing the lenses of his glasses and setting them back upon the pronounced bridge of his nose before he continued. "They serve and protect Radiata, and when a threat is presented to the people, they defend us against it."

"Lord Baade was no threat," that deep, rumbling voice assured. Baade was the earth dragon, Cepheid had told Gil. Gil leaned forward to see the speaker around the orc beside him. It was the dwarf. He was sure that rumble was a woman's voice, but her face had more hair than his own head. "Lord Baade was with us in Borgandiazo when your knights launched their attack," she said. "He had done nothing to warrant such an assault, and still they came. We will not trade with humans who needlessly slay our guardians."

Gil gasped. "Lord Baade is dead?" When all eyes turned on him, he realized he now stood with his palms planted firmly on the table. He sat down and stared anew at the tablecloth.

"Lord Nogueira, I hope you don't think I'm being rude," the king said, "but why have you brought a child to this meeting?"

"He's no younger than the youngest knight sent to the City of Flowers," Nogueira replied. "I'm sure you're already aware of the bias many light elves hold against humanity. I brought him because our own guardian felt it appropriate to send someone who holds no particular prejudices."

"With all due respect, that young knight has not joined this meeting," the man across from Gil stated, supporting the king. "She was not invited, and neither was he."

"Very well," Nogueira conceded. "Gil, could you please step out?"

Gil bit down on his lower lip. His eyes flicked to Nogueira's, and then back to the tablecloth. He nodded. With his eyes falling from the tablecloth to the floor, he slipped off of his chair, walked as quickly as he could without running around the table, and left through the same doors they had entered. In the hall, by the door, Gil looked both to the left and right. Out here, he was alone.

With nowhere to go, and in spite of how awkward it felt against his wings, Gil pressed himself to the wall. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Even so, his lips still quivered and he could feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lord Nogueira," he murmured. He slid until his bottom hit the ground, and wrapped his arms around his knees. There was no one to share his embarrassment, the discussion would continue without him and his outburst would be forgotten, but with every beat he could feel his heart ache.

It would do him no good to sit and mope until the meeting let out, so he settled instead for withdrawing his notebook and quill from his satchel. He uncorked his inkpot and cupped it on the floor between his feet, opened his notebook in his lap, and dipped the quill.

He hesitated. He looked down the hall again to be sure he was really alone, and tapped the feather end of his quill to his lips. He frowned at the poem in progress, the same one that knight had criticized, and turned to a blank page. The only words he could think, he wrote. _Lord Baade is dead._ He stared at the words, as if having written them had somehow made them more real. _I always thought the dragons were immortal_, he continued._ Not like we are, not susceptible to wounds or illness, not just ageless, but truly beings that cannot be destroyed. They are a part of Tottaus itself; their life is the life of the world._ Gil's hands were shaking as he added the next words,_ I was wrong._

Tears burned into his cheeks, and he wiped them from his chin before they could fall upon the page. "Lord Cepheid," he said, clutching the book as if the pages themselves were fragile life, "please be safe."

"Where did you come from?" came a voice down the hall.

Gil quickly wiped the trails from his cheeks and peered in the direction from which the voice had come. A man was approaching from near the stairwell. Though the ink was still wet, Gil snapped shut the pages of his notebook, and dropped the cork in the mouth of his inkpot. "The City of Flowers," he replied. He hugged his notebook in one arm, holding the quill in that same hand, and picked up the inkpot in the other as he stood to meet eye-to-eye with the approaching human.

"Obviously," the human said, "you sure as hell aren't from Radiata."

Gil thought to quip about the man's also unfit appearance, but held his tongue. Still, the long, unbuttoned coat, the straight shorts, and low socks didn't fit with the upstanding dress of the man who had passed them in the hall before they had reached the conference room.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" the man continued, his head cocked to one side. "Looking for trouble?"

"No," Gil replied, "I'm waiting for Lord Nogueira."

"Waiting? Outside of the conference hall while there's a meeting in progress," the man mused. "Is that all?"

"Yeah."

"Then what's this?" The man reached for Gil's notebook, and grabbed it by the spine.

Gil gripped the book in both arms and squeezed it firmly against his chest. "Let go!" he cried.

He was still against the wall, and now with a hand and an elbow on either side of him. As he twisted to wrench his notebook free of the man's grip, the inkpot slipped from his grasp. It was thick glass, and he didn't doubt that it would survive the fall, but the cork was loose. He could only watch as ink spilled down the right side of the human's coat. The human drew back, and looked down at the mess as the cork and inkpot rolled away from one another, trailing ink into the carpet. Gil stared wide-eyed at the man. "I'm sorry!"

"Oh," the human growled, "you will be!" He lunged at Gil again, and rather than the book, this time he dug his fingers into the thick of the elf's scarf and gripped his throat. The man's open-mouthed scowl revealed clenched teeth, and his eyes glared directly into the elf's own.

Gil squeaked. "It was an accident!"

The human wasn't listening. While he held Gil against the wall with one hand, he drew the other back in a fist. Gil clenched his eyes shut.

"Captain!" shouted a voice down the hall. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

Gil cracked open one eye to find that malicious stare directed away from him. The man's nostrils flared like an animal's as he spat, "Can't you see I'm busy here?"

"But, Captain," the other voice insisted, "you have a visitor."

As the man's fury grew, his grip on Gil's throat tightened. "They can wait." Gil dropped his notebook in favor of attempting to pry the man's fingers loose, at which they squeezed even more.

"It's Mina."

Although the man hadn't released him outright, at once his grip fell lax. "Mina?"

"She wanted your help, Captain."

"With what?"

"She's preparing for the Royal Radiata Knight Selection Trials."

"She's joining the knights?" At last the man released Gil altogether. "About damn time."

Although Gil was shaking and unable to bring himself to move away from the human still standing in front of him, he chanced a glance at the source of the interrupting voice. It was the blonde nobleman who had passed them in the hall before the meeting began. The blonde nodded to the man before Gil.

"You," the man said. Gil's attention snapped back to the human before him as he was addressed. The man raised his arm again, and Gil flinched. "You are a lucky little bitch." Rather than strike, he turned, and stalked back to the stairwell.

Neither Gil nor the blonde down the hall moved until the man had reached the stairwell. Gil sank to his knees, and the nobleman rushed to his side.

"Are you all right?" the blonde asked, kneeling beside Gil.

"It..." Gil murmured, "it was an accident."

Gil's heart skipped a beat as the shaggy-haired nobleman collected his notebook from where it had landed. His eyes widened as the human examined the cover, but without cracking it open the blonde held it out for him. Gil reached out and reclaimed his notebook, hugging it as he had previously.

"It was his fault," the human said. "Not yours."

"No," Gil sputtered. He reached for his quill, and glanced to where his inkpot had rolled. He also noticed then that the blonde was kneeling where the trail of ink began. "The ink, I didn't make sure it was—"

"It's okay." Gil flinched as the human reached for his face, but the blonde only wiped the tears from his cheeks. "He got what he deserved."

"I'm sorry," Gil insisted.

The blonde shook his head. "It's fine."

Gil pointed to the floor. "For that."

"Don't worry about it," the nobleman assured. He collected the inkpot and cork, capped the pot, and stood. He offered his hand to the small elf, and helped Gil back to his feet. "Come with me," he said, and began to walk towards the stairs.

"But Lord Nogueira—"

"They'll be a while," the blonde said. "And in any case, if Sawyer comes back, it'll be safer for you to wait somewhere else."

Gil gasped. "Right." Without further hesitation, he floated after the human. "But what about the mess?"

"Let him explain it when they see his coat."

Gil hesitated. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Still, he followed the nobleman as far as the stairwell.

The human had descended to the bottom. Gil watched from the top until the nobleman realized the elf hadn't followed and peered up the stairs at him. The human made a show of looking down one end of the hall below, then the other, and then back up the stairs to Gil. "He's gone," the nobleman said. "He knows where to find Mina, and she's the only person he won't keep waiting. Come on."

Gil looked back to the conference room one last time before floating down the stairs and continuing after the human. He hadn't forgotten that Lord Nogueira had told him to walk, but Nogueira wasn't watching, and the nobleman didn't seem to mind. Gil followed the human to the second floor, down a few halls, and to a room.

The blonde set his hand on the doorknob, but paused there and looked back to Gil. "I'm Drago," he said. "And you're...?"

"Gil."

The human smiled and proceeded to open the door. At a glance, the room was simple and clean. There was a bed thick with pillows and a comforter, a desk and chair, and an armoire. It was the human's bedroom. While Drago closed the door behind them and made his way to the armoire, Gil glanced around the walls. The warmth in the otherwise bare room, Gil discovered, was a painting hanging over the desk. It depicted a field mostly of wheat, but also of other crops and bordered by a few flowers. He set his feet on the ground and stepped towards the desk to get a better look.

"That's the farm land around Cinco Village," Drago explained, "where my family lives."

Gil wasn't fond of the dusty browns, but although it was nothing like the light of an evening bloom, there was still some color. The composition was balanced, and the field was something of the earth in a place forced into shape by human hands. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you."

Gil turned to Drago, his eyes flicked back to the painting before they rested on the human's. "You painted that?"

The human smiled and nodded. Behind him, Gil noticed something he couldn't see from the doorway. Tucked beside the armoire was an easel.

"Do you have any more?" Gil asked.

"Not here," Drago conceded. "His Majesty King Pharell commissions them to hang in the halls of the castle."

"But aren't you a knight?" Gil pondered. "You called that guy Captain."

"Yes," the human replied, and gestured to the front left corner of the room where Gil had also overlooked an armor stand, "but the Fer Lierre is mostly assigned to reconnaissance missions. We don't deal directly with the fairy races." He sighed. "I'm sure it would be disastrous if we did. But since observation is everything in our missions, I have plenty to draw inspiration from for my paintings."

"Have you ever painted the Marais region?"

Drago peered at Gil. "To be honest," he said, "I don't think I've even heard of that region."

"Oh!" Gil exclaimed. "That's right, Lord Cepheid said you humans just call it the elf region."

"Ah, I've never been there," Drago confessed. "I would love to go, and to see the City of Flowers, but I would have to be in the Platine Saule with the general to ever be assigned to it."

Gil shook his head. "I don't think Zane would let you in anyway."

The human's eyes turned to the ground for a moment before he glanced over his shoulder to the easel. "You wouldn't mind if I paint, would you?"

"Not at all," Gil said.

Drago smiled, and fetched the easel. When he had it unfolded, upright in the center of the open floor, he pulled a canvas from behind the armoire. Gil stepped around the room to see if there were more canvases, but the narrow space behind the armoire didn't look big enough to fit more than one. He watched the human collect the tools of his craft from his desk. The human didn't seem to mind having an audience, which puzzled but pleased the elf.

He crawled onto the human's bed, and sat near the foot end of it where he had the best view of the canvas around Drago's back. With a few simple strokes, the canvas was no longer blank. It took several lines before Gil began to see a subject emerge from the forms drafted onto the canvas, but the human knew well what he was doing and Gil already found himself trying to imagine what the final product would look like.

Gil watched Drago paint for some time. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but as the canvas came to life, the stuffy room and the smell of the paint slowly fed a dull ache beneath his skull. Although the landscape wasn't yet well defined, there was no white left on the canvas. There were forms of unkempt grass and a broad range of shapes and colors that each stroke was defining as wild flowers. Gil enjoyed what he saw, but it was becoming more difficult to keep his eyes open before the growing headache, and before long he had laid his head on the human's pillow.

A knock came at the door. At once, Gil was upright. His head spun at the sudden motion, and with pain came panic. What if it was that wolfish captain again? Drago was setting his paints on his desk. He was going to answer the knock, and all Gil could think to do was hide.

The elf pulled open the doors of the armoire, and crawled inside. The bottom half of the armoire had drawers, but although he had to crouch atop them for his legs to fit, it accommodated his wings well enough. He pulled the armoire's doors shut as Drago cracked open his bedroom door. There was a tightening feeling about his neck, and he paled as he realized his scarf had become caught between the doors.

"Sorry to bother you, Drago," said someone outside the room, "but have you seen the small elf who was with us earlier?"

Gil shivered as the bedroom door creaked open. He tugged at the scarf, but it simply wouldn't come loose.

"Yes," Drago replied, "he's right... here... Well, he was here."

"If he comes back," drawled the light elf leader's voice, "please let him know I would like to head home soon. If I cannot find him, I may have to leave without him."

Gil gasped, and burst out of the armoire. "Lord Nogueira," he cried, "please don't go without me!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

If anyone is reading here, thank you for your time, and I hope you're enjoying the fanfic~ Feedback would be appreciated, especially criticism, but is not necessary. :3 In the next chapter, we reunite with the dark elves for some celebrating, dancing, and a dramatic poetry reading.


	4. No Hard Feelings

**Chapter Four - No Hard Feelings  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Samara plucked a counted number of turquoise colored beads from her box and wove them onto the strings in her hands. Ledert lay on the ground beside the blonde, her feet planted flat on the wall and her hands holding a book open above her head. On the other side of Ledert sat the small dark elf, Hollace, who was singing softly. And across from the dark elves were Valko and Gil. The light elves had only just joined them. Valko hadn't yet raided the wine cellar, and Gil hadn't cracked open his notebook.<p>

"Is that for someone special?" Valko asked.

Samara glanced up from her work and grinned. "Maybe." Instead of painted beads, for the next row she collected resin-coated wooden beads.

"I'll bet it's for that human," Ledert said. She peered in Samara's direction and examined the work in progress.

Samara giggled. "Maybe."

"It's been a week since they came," the redhead continued, "and you still have that_ look_ in your eyes. You have a crush, don't you?"

"A crush?" Valko mused, the corner of his lips twisting into a smirk. "On the captain?"

Samara kept her eyes on her strings, failing to hide the blush that crept across her cheeks. "Are all humans that pretty?"

Ledert lowered her book to her stomach and gagged as animatedly as she could. "Humans aren't pretty," she huffed. "Light elves are pretty."

Samara's gaze flicked to the elves across from them. Valko was grinning now, while Gil was painted a shade of rose and trying twice as hard to keep his eyes on the floor.

"Holly," Clay called, "I need a hand."

The singing stopped. The company of five turned their attention down the hall. Hollace stood up and followed Clay to the band's bedroom. The girls glanced to each other, and then stared in the direction Clay and Hollace had gone. The guitarist came out of the room after the other two had gone in, carrying his instrument.

"Are you gonna play?" Samara asked, the cheer in her features doubling.

Rad shook his head. "Sorry Sunshine," he replied. "We're heading out."

"But we just got here," Valko whined, and Rad shrugged apologetically.

Samara frowned. "Out where?"

"Just out," the guitarist insisted.

"Radley," Samara pleaded, "tell me!"

The guitarist grinned as he made his way towards the stairwell, and headed down to the foyer. "You'll have to ask Clay."

Samara huffed. She laced her work in progress so the beads wouldn't come loose, tucked everything inside her box of beads, and got up. Clay and Hollace were returning from the room, the drum set in hand. She stepped over Ledert, her hands on her hips, and glared at the drummer. Clay's eyes flicked to hers as they passed, but he said nothing and continued after Rad.

Samara let her arms fall, and gave an exasperated sigh. "Where are you going?" she demanded. She strode after them, catching up quickly, and walked beside the drummer.

Clay glanced to her, and then fixed his eyes back on the ground over his shoulder. "We got a gig outside the metropolis," he replied simply.

"Where?"

"What does it matter?"

"We're coming with you!" Ledert stated. Samara hadn't seen the redhead get up to follow, but found her on her feet and within arm's reach.

"No," Clay said, "you're staying here."

"But that's no fun," Ledert huffed. "We wanna come."

The drummer glared at the floor as he and his small aide made their way downstairs. Samara walked back to the wall where they had been seated only minutes prior, and collected her bead box. She and Ledert then ran to grab a few things from their room. When they had made their way back through the foyer and downstairs, the light elves had already gone.

With their bags over their shoulders, the girls made their way outside. The light elves oversaw as the band loaded a small wagon with their equipment. Valko seemed eager to tag along and even more so to drag Gil with him. The boys didn't have a goat to pull the wagon, but with only the drums, guitar, and a bag of personal effects, it didn't look as though it would be difficult for them to pull on their own. Clay and Rad were securing a leather tarp over the contents of the wagon, and otherwise they looked ready to go.

The guitarist's eyes flicked to the girls. He beamed. "Are you coming with us?"

Clay opened his mouth to reply, but the girls cheered over him. "Yes!" The drummer shook his head at them and tied down another corner of the tarp.

When everything was secure, Clay stepped around to the front of the wagon and grabbed it by the tongue.

"Are you going to pull that by yourself?" the guitarist asked.

"Yes," the drummer muttered, "I'm going to pull it all by myself." He glared sidelong at the guitarist.

Rad smiled broadly back. "Okay." The guitarist put his hands on Hollace's shoulders, and began to steer the small elf away from the Forest Metropolis. Valko mirrored the action with Gil, grinning as broadly as Rad smiled.

Clay dropped the tongue of the wagon and threw his arms in the air. "Radley," he grumbled, "get over here."

Samara grinned. Clay's refusal to further address their company was enough to say he had conceded defeat, and they could tag along. Sure, he huffed. He would have crossed his arms, too, if he and Rad weren't pulling the wagon. But the girls were granted an adventure. Samara and Ledert followed the cart while Hollace and the light elves led it. Clay walked quickly, about the only outlet he had for his frustration with them. Lucky for Rad, the guitarist was quite a bit taller than all of them, and his long legs could easily match the stride of the drummer's quiet tantrum.

The drummer wasn't the only quiet one. Rad had begun to take the trek seriously, or maybe he just didn't want to further upset Clay. Gil was shy. And Hollace was always quiet when he wasn't singing. The Forest Metropolis had disappeared behind them before Samara decided the quiet had gone on long enough.

"So," she said, "where are we going?"

"He didn't tell you?" Rad called back. "I thought that was why you're excited."

"Wait, what?" Samara redoubled her pace and marched up alongside the wagon on the drummer's side. "Clay, where are we going?"

Clay stopped, releasing the tongue of the wagon. At that, he did cross his arms. He shook his head, too, before looking in Samara's direction. "Radiata."

Samara gasped. Her eyes grew wide, and she bit her lips together until she was sure she wouldn't grin, giggle, or dance. "You mean it?" she asked. She stepped towards him, grabbing at his arms. "This isn't a joke, like some subtle sarcasm or something?"

Clay rolled his eyes, and glared at the boughs above them.

"I mean," she chattered, "because you're really good at that kind of stuff." She palmed the drummer's cheeks, and turned his face back to hers. When she was sure his attention was fully upon her, she asked again, "Are we really going to Radiata?"

The drummer gritted his teeth, but Samara had no intention to let him go until he replied. The longer he hesitated, the longer he considered how to reply, the more she was sure he had meant what he had said. He confirmed that when he finally replied, "Promise me you'll behave yourself."

Samara let go of the drummer's cheeks, and instead threw her arms around him. He staggered back as she stood on her toes and leaned into him.

"How did you get a gig all the way in Radiata?" Valko asked.

"That knight got it for us," Rad said, "the one you were getting cozy with."

Where Valko chuckled, Ledert huffed at the mention of Coty.

Clay peeled Samara's arms from around him and held her back. She still beamed at him as he took hold of the wagon again and gestured for Rad to do the same. They continued along the path. Clay's pace seemed to have slowed, and Rad began to whistle while they walked. The whistling became song, and Hollace began to sing along. The girls giggled to each other and walked in step with the beat. It wasn't much longer before they came to a split in the path. For the first time Samara could remember, they followed the path south into the Cinco region.

They hadn't made it far down the split when they heard a voice behind them shout, "Hey!" The wagon stopped, and Samara and Ledert turned to find another light elf fast approaching. Samara didn't know the newcomer, but might have found her pretty if her face wasn't scrunched in a scowl and her hands balled tightly into fists. "Valko," the girl spat, "how dare you abandon your post!"

"Abandon?" the sentry gasped. "Whatever do you mean, Fan? I haven't _abandoned_ it, I was just—"

"You're in big trouble, mister!" Valko ducked behind the poet, but the girl was still a foot above the ground and from this vantage point easily glared over Gil. "You know you can't just take off whenever you want."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," the sentry said. "Zane is a big boy. He can handle it on his own."

The girl lunged forward and grabbed Valko's leafy ascot. Gil ducked out from between them as she jerked Valko into the sky. "You're coming back to the City of Flowers with me whether you like it or not," she stated, "Lady Faunus' orders."

* * *

><p>That was how Gil ended up in Radiata for the second time in less than a week. First Lord Cepheid had sent him to the Forest Metropolis, then to the castle, and now Valko had the bright idea to drag him back to the metropolis again. Only this time, they didn't <em>stay<em> in the metropolis. He, the band, and the girls had reached some stuffy human inn in a maze of buildings, in a neighborhood where everyone had shifty eyes and twitchy fingers, and he was expected to _sleep_ there.

It was the day after they had arrived in Radiata. The dark building in which they now sat, not too far from that stuffy inn, stank of cheap booze and human sweat. Gil was alone in a sea of strangers with dark elves he had only met once before.

"Sentry duty," he muttered, scowling at a stain on the table at which he and the girls sat. What were their names again? He cracked open his notebook, where he had scrawled them during that first visit to the Forest Metropolis.

"He had to work. It can't be helped," said Samara, described in his book as the dark elf who wore more beads than cloth. "But this isn't so bad, is it?"

When they had reached the club where the band was performing, Gil had chosen a table in the back, out of the way of the human traffic coming in and out and drinking that foul-smelling liquor. There was a direct line from where he sat to the exit. The band was staged in the back of the hall, where he assumed there was another exit, but he was glad not to be where they were. There was a counter along the wall opposite the entrance and adjacent both to the walls along which the band played and where Gil and the girls sat. Between the tables and the performers, there was an open space on the floor. There weren't many dancers on the floor yet, but the band had only begun to play.

That wasn't the only problem, he realized, as a soft glow cast his shadow across the pages of his notebook. The flutter of blue and green light made Gil's heart sink. He glanced around the club, and found what he dreaded he might. All around, humans' eyes were turned in his direction. The glow of his wings stood out against the dim light of the club. Gil quickly turned his gaze back to the pages of his book.

"Ew, it's him," the redheaded dark elf grumbled. She was the girl with a flower in her hair, which Gil decided complemented her natural tones.

"Who?" the blonde dark elf asked.

Gil's eyes flicked from the pages to the girls, and he watched as Ledert pointed to a table closer to the dance floor. Sitting alone at a table for six, in casual slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, was the knight who had criticized his poetry. He closed the book and gripped it in both arms. Twice, humans had tried to take it right out of his hands, and having been reminded of it he wished he hadn't brought it along. He had been so afraid of Fan when she had come to reclaim the sentry that he couldn't bring himself to follow them, but now he wished he had.

"Samara," Ledert said, "where are you going?"

"I'm going to say hi," the blonde replied.

"You're actually going to talk to him?" the flower girl exclaimed. "Why? He's just a jerk!"

Samara's lips twisted in a grin. "But he can tell me where to find his captain." She had already decided to head over there, and as she stepped further off, the flower-wearing dark elf followed. If he didn't get up and go after them, Gil would be left alone. Abandoning what little sanctity the table near the door held in favor of safety in numbers, Gil collected his things and weaved through the tables after them.

"Coty!" Samara called, her fingertips grazing the tabletop beside him.

The knight's attention snapped to Samara. He frowned at the dark elf for a moment before exclaiming, "Samara!"

"You remember me!" she cheered. "You're not here by yourself, are you?"

"Of course not," Coty said, shaking his head. "You're here with the band?"

The bead-covered elf nodded. She held her hands together before her, cocked her head to the side, and her lips curled into a coy smile. "Do you have room for a few more?"

Coty leaned his chair back on two legs to see around the blonde elf. He glanced at Ledert, and then stared at Gil. "You're here, too?" he gasped. "I can't believe I missed those wings in a place like this."

His insecurities so plainly put forth, Gil's ducked behind his notebook.

"If it's just the three of you, then yeah," the knight said, "there's room."

Samara's smile broadened, and she pulled out and plopped into a chair beside Coty. Ledert stepped around Samara and sat beside her, setting her arms on the table, and resting her chin on her knuckles. She made a point of facing away from the knight, inadvertently looking as though she was snubbing the dark elf she sat beside. Gil wasn't sure if he should make his way around the table and sit beside the redhead, or grab the chair in front of him on the other side of the knight. If something should happen, it would probably be safer to sit close to Coty, so beside the knight he sat.

"Who are you here with?" Samara asked. She leaned on her elbows, her cheeks resting on her palms, and stared in Coty's direction.

Coty gestured in the direction of the bar. "Just a couple friends," he said. "We're celebrating Mina's success."

Gil had heard that name before, he was sure of it, but he couldn't remember where or from whom.

"What success?" Samara pressed.

Coty grinned and replied, "She passed the knight selection trials."

A chill ran up Gil's spine as he recalled where he had heard that name before. He could hear his heart pounding over the rumble of the music. "I shouldn't be here," he murmured.

A pair of hands smacked flat onto the tabletop on either side of Gil, and a voice overhead asked, "Why not?" Reflexively, he looked up, and squeaked at the mug of that monster of a captain. "Hello again," the man said, his teeth glinting from the light of Gil's wings as he grinned down on the light elf.

"Hey, Sawyer," Coty said. "I didn't know you two already met."

That wolfish grin broadened, and Gil willed himself to pull away. To his horror, he was frozen in place. "Not quite," the man replied, and he leaned low over the elf. "But, just so you know—" Gil shuddered as the monster's hair tickled his ear. "—no hard feelings."

Gil's breath hitched as the man pulled away, giving Gil's shoulders a firm squeeze. As much as Gil wanted to feel relief now that there wasn't a pair of arms trapping him at the table, the monster pulled up the chair beside his. Gil drew his knees onto the edge of the chair, and curled around them.

"So that's the light elf," said the woman who pulled up the last chair at the table. Gil assumed she was Mina, and his assumption was confirmed as Coty went around the table and named everyone in a quick, informal introduction. Gil chanced a glance around the wolfish captain to Mina. She had long, dark hair, skin almost as fair as his, and she smiled almost tenderly at him when she caught him examining her. Gil fixed his attention back on the table. He heard her clap the shoulder of the monster beside him. "You didn't tell me he was cute."

The captain huffed. "Cute?" Gil squeaked again as the man slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Gil's gaze flicked to his and then Mina's as the captain looked him over. "It's the doe eyes, isn't it?"

Mina shook her head, but said, "That must be it."

As scarlet flared across his cheeks, Gil curled tighter around his notebook. In spite of the arm still hooked about his shoulders, he looked away from that wolfish captain. Ledert and Samara both seemed to study the humans who had joined them. Ledert's eyes flicked between them, and then to the band. Samara seemed fixed on Sawyer. And why wouldn't she be? She sat across from him, and forward was the easiest direction to look. Her eyes rested too low to be looking at his face, but she leaned further over the table, her eyes alight.

Gil glanced back at the monster beside him. Sawyer was taller, of course, and without looking up, Gil saw more shoulder than face. Falling from the man's shoulders was a thin chain, and hanging upon it were two stones and a silver locket. One of the stones was plain, but the other glowed green.

The man grabbed the chain and tucked it into his shirt. He cocked his head to look Gil in the eyes. "What are you looking at?"

Gil shook his head. "Nothing!" At that, the man released him and lounged in his chair.

Samara's attention was also lost. She stared in the direction of the band, frowning. From what he could see, it looked as though the drummer watched her right back. Her expression soured further the longer she looked their way. After a moment of this exchange, she rolled her eyes towards the table, and back up to the wolfish captain. "Wanna dance?"

"Me? Dance with you?" Sawyer asked, and the beaded elf nodded. "You're kidding right?"

Mina stood up and made her way around the table. "No, honey," she corrected, and she gave Samara's shoulder a light squeeze as she passed, "like this." She stopped behind Coty, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and leaned low over him. "Coty, dance with me."

Coty wasn't given a chance to retaliate as Mina took him by the arm and pulled him from the table, though he didn't seem reluctant to go along.

Samara giggled, and stood from her seat. She grinned at Sawyer.

"I don't believe this," the monster grumbled.

He made no effort to move until Samara had made her way around the table to him. His eyes flicked to Mina's, and lingered there in a glower, before he finally conceded defeat and pulled himself from his chair. Sawyer recoiled as Samara took him by the arm, but from what Gil could see her grin broadened at the victory.

"So, Gil..." Ledert said, "what about you?"

Gil shook his head. "I don't want to dance."

The flower-wearing elf stuck out her lower lip in a pout. "Please?"

"No," Gil huffed. "I don't even want to be here."

"Fine," Ledert muttered.

She folded her arms on the table and rested her chin on them. She scowled at nothing, but what was Gil to do? He would have to put his notebook down to dance, and at any time one of the humans could walk by and snatch it. And even were it not for the book, he simply did not want to mingle in the dank atmosphere.

A few songs later, the tempo slowed. Gil glanced to the band, and listened to the heavier strings and lighter drum notes. He skimmed the dance floor. He found the knights quickly. Mina was pressed up against Coty, and Coty held her firmly. She set her chin on his shoulder. A couple feet away, Samara had her hands on the wolfish captain's shoulders, and Sawyer placed his hands on her hips, but there were several inches between them.

As they swayed to the music, and Mina and Sawyer caught a glimpse of one another, Sawyer scowled around Samara at the newly knighted woman behind her. Mina smiled, and behind Coty's back she gestured to the captain, bringing her palms together. Sawyer glanced back to the table, and his eyes met Gil's. It was difficult to be sure, but Gil thought he saw the captain's eyes roll before he slipped his arms fully around Samara and pulled her closer.

Gil turned his attention back to the table. Ledert had her head on its side, and she was watching the dance floor. Gil set his notebook down, but kept his hands on the cover. He opened his mouth to speak, but without even hesitating he snapped it shut again. He folded his arms across his chest, and stared at the book where he had set it.

The tempo began to rise again. Across from Gil, the redhead sat up and set her cheek on her knuckles. Gil's eyes flicked in the direction she looked to find Coty and Samara returning to the table. A quick look at the dance floor gave him some sanctity when he found that monster still out and bobbing to the beat with Mina. Coty took his seat, but with her hands on the table Samara remained standing.

"Hey, Coty," she said.

"Yeah," Coty replied.

"Where can I find Lucian?"

Coty glanced up at the blonde. "He's in the castle, probably in his room."

Samara frowned. "And where's that?"

Coty pulled a booklet from his pocket, and flipped through it to a particular page. He set it open on the table, and pointed to a particular location. Gil leaned forward as Samara came around the table to get a better look. "This is where we are," he said, and then he pointed to another spot. "And that's the castle there. Just follow these paths."

Samara picked the booklet up off the table, and examined the map. Gil leaned low to the table to get a look at the cover. "Can I take this with me?" she asked.

Coty reached for the booklet and held it by the spine between his index and middle fingers. "Sorry," he said, "it's my Knight's Charter. I'd be in trouble if I lost it."

"Oh," Samara murmured, and she relinquished the booklet.

"Can you remember the way without it?"

"I think so," she mused. "Thank you." She bent over Coty and pressed her lips against his cheek. Gil watched to see if the knight would react, but he seemed unfazed by the attention.

"Can I come?" Ledert asked.

Samara shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ledert," she said. "I need you to stay here with Gil."

"Right," the redhead sighed. She leaned back in her chair, setting her hands in her lap, and watched as Samara weaved through the tables to the door.

When the bead-wearing elf was out the door, Gil looked fully at the redhead across from him. No sooner had their eyes met, Ledert averted her gaze. Gil turned his eyes to his notebook on the table. He ran a hand through his hair, where it came to rest on the back of his neck. Gil heard Coty's chair creak as he leaned forward, and in the corner of his eye he could see the knight peering at him. When he made no effort to acknowledge that look, the knight nudged Gil's arm with his elbow. Gil humored the human and looked in his direction.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as if the dark elf across the table wasn't in the same rut.

Gil drew his hand from the back of his neck and curled back around his knees. It surprised him that he would even have to think about it. "Yeah," he sighed, "I'm—"

"What have we here?"

Gil's jaw hung open as his notebook disappeared from the tabletop. He stood from his seat and reached after it, but the wolfish captain spun on his heel. "Give it back!" Gil cried, reaching around the man.

Sawyer kept his back to the elf, and began to flip through the pages. "Relax," he said. "I'm not gonna hurt it."

Gil gripped the man's jacket. Even as his feet were pulled from the ground, his body suspended in mid-air and his arms extended over the man's shoulders, the book was beyond reach. The captain turned to the light elf and held Gil's head beneath his palm. Gil withdrew his arms, holding them and his knees in up in front of him in case Sawyer meant to grab for his throat again. The hand on his head, much to his relief, did no such ill. It simply guided him back to his seat. When he had sunk almost to contact with the chair, the captain resumed thumbing the pages.

"I always thought the dragons were immortal," Sawyer read. "They are a part of Tottaus itself; their life is the life of the world." He glanced sidelong at the elf who had penned the words. "How poetic."

Gil began to shake. Of all passages for that monster to find, why them? His hands covered his mouth as if it would hide the tremble on his breaths. He could feel the knots winding in his throat as that captain turned the page.

Sawyer's tongue flicked to out to wet his lips, as if he would read another passage aloud. Instead, his brow knotted as he skimmed the page and then asked, "Who's this Cepheid?" His eyes peered at Gil over the edge of the book. "I mean, am I misunderstanding this, or are you in love with the guy?"

Gil's defensive front dropped, and his face turned scarlet.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Mina amended.

"I was just saying," Sawyer grumbled. He held the book out in front of the pale-skinned woman and pointed to a particular verse. "Look, right there."

"No!" Gil squeaked. He dove at the captain again to try and reclaim his notebook, but the monster held out his arm to block Gil as if he knew the reaction he was inciting. The book had changed hands, and the woman had already gotten a good look at the passage.

Mina's eyes flicked from Sawyer's to Gil's before she read select verses aloud. "The warm caress of a summer's breeze / Graced by time, from grass to straw / Those ruby eyes have seen it all / Noble and kind, watching over me / Our guardian, our hope / My everything."

"See," Sawyer stated, "he's in love."

"Maybe," Mina agreed, though she shook her head and flipped briefly back to the page before it where Gil had recorded his thoughts about the death of Lord Baade. "But the poem is filled with verses about the wind," she said. "And the guardian of the elves is the wind dragon."

The ill-founded humor in that roguish captain's features dropped. Gil gasped as the man stepped closer to Mina and poured over the pages again, this time with that open-mouthed scowl and fire in his eyes. He had seen too much. Gil leapt from his seat and shoved Sawyer aside. He ripped his book from Mina's grasp. As the captain doubled back to subdue the elf, Gil bounded over the table and bolted for the exit. He could feel the eyes on him as he made a spectacle of escaping, but to fly was the only way he could outrun the man in that crowded club. He dared not look back, fleeing into the streets of Radiata.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I missed the chance to have Coty call the girls by their nicknames and piss off Ledert here. Consequently, I may not be able to have Sawyer later say something that'll ruffle Clay's feathers. But that's okay. That scene will have plenty of delicious drama of its own. In the next chapter, there will be a nearsighted creeper, lots of pretty things (including a half-naked Lucian), and a guillotine of sorts.


	5. Knights of the Same Brigade

**Chapter Five - Knights of the Same Brigade  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Samara followed the streets to the best of her ability, clutching the strap of her shoulder bag. She had found the first bend with little difficulty, but as she reached the second bend the houses were beginning to look the same. She frowned and slowed to a stop. There were a couple shops back in the direction from which she had come, and there was a tall apartment complex just past the homes she stood beside. There were a few people, too, she noted, but either they looked away, or they wouldn't stop staring at her. Between the aversion, and the watchful, scowling faces, she didn't know whom she could ask for directions. Standing still wouldn't get her anywhere, and neither would staring awkwardly back at the people. With a sigh, she shuffled onward.<p>

"Pardon me, milady?"

Samara slowed again. The voice was a few yards behind her, and she didn't want to turn around, but she kept her ears open curious all the same.

"Aha!" the voice said, and it was much closer now. Samara faced the stranger. "I thought I saw someone unusual wandering past my windowpane. She's a fairer sight up close, to be sure."

Half of the man's face was hidden behind thick, box-like goggles. The grin beneath that box stretched from ear to ear.

"Hello," she murmured.

"Salutations," the man replied. "My name is Oriel Marigold. And you, milady, are a dark elf. Correct?"

Samara nodded. The eccentric human continued to beam at her, and she could do little more than gawk in return. He was already near her when he took another step closer. He adjusted the boxy goggles on his nose, and she stepped back as he looked her over. She wanted to appraise the gold bands wrapped around his thick fingers, and the gems affixed to his lapel, but when she felt the hem of his robes brush against her shins it sent goose bumps all the way to her stomach.

The man's eyes came to rest on the beaded bracer she wore below her shoulder on her right arm, and he bent nearer to get a better look. "The craft is impeccable," he said. He grabbed at her arm, and she staggered back several steps to keep out of reach.

"I really should be going," she insisted, tightly gripping the strap of her bag with both hands, "to the castle."

She gaped as the man's grin grew. He stood back to the full of his height, and towered over her almost as effectively as Lucian did. "Allow me to accompany you."

Samara shook her head so vigorously the beads in her hair battered her cheeks. "You shouldn't go to so much trouble," she said. "If you'll just give me directions, I can find it myself."

"Oh," the man sighed, "very well." The grin overtaking his face sagged into a long, flat line. "Follow this road for another two blocks, and then look to your left. You should be able to see it from there."

Samara gave the man a tiny smile. "Thank you."

She hurried along, waving before turning back to the street ahead of her. She bit her lips together as she went to keep from expressing aloud how she felt about the eccentric stranger. It came as some consolation to her, as she rounded the bend, to find that his directions were accurate. Before her now was a path straight to the castle. As she wandered forward, she peered up at the tallest towers. The closer she got, she farther she had to crane her neck to see the top.

"Excuse me, miss," said the guard at the door, "but we cannot allow you to enter."

Her daydreaming came to a halt as she looked over the armored guardsmen. "Why not?" she asked. "I just want to visit Lucian."

"Without an invitation, the castle is off-limits."

"She has an invitation," called a woman coming from around the side of the castle.

One of the guards gasped. "General Lorant!"

"Hadn't the commander-in-chief ordered you not to leave on account of your illness?" the other guardsman asked.

"Don't be ridiculous," the woman scoffed, and Samara saw the guardsmen wince. "Allard has no grounds on which to hold me." Samara glanced up at the general as one of her hands came to rest on the elf's shoulder. "At ease, gentlemen," she said. "I take full responsibility for her actions."

The woman stepped ahead of Samara to open the door. She stood with her shoulders back and her head high, much like Lady Vesper did. The woman's arms and legs were thicker than Samara's were, which wasn't unusual, but they were also thicker than the guardsmen's. It was fitting for the general both to look strong and to carry herself boldly, and Samara should have expected no less, but walking alongside her Samara felt comparatively frail.

When the door rattled into place behind them, the woman glanced at Samara out of the corner of her eye. "You're here to see Lucian?"

"Well, he's not expecting me," Samara admitted.

"He doesn't have to be," the general said. "It'll be a nice surprise." Her gaze flicked from the elf's face, to her jewelry. "You're Samara."

"Yes," she replied, "but how did you...?"

"You're the one who sent Lucian home with a bucket of beads in his hair."

"It wasn't the whole box," Samara huffed, "and he said it was okay." She abruptly stopped and stared wide-eyed at Lorant. "He wasn't mad, was he?"

The general shook her head. "Not at all. Though he did seem upset with Allard's suggestion that he cut his hair to get them out."

"He would never!" Samara gasped.

Lorant grinned. "No, he would not."

The general continued to lead Samara through the halls, and rather than watch the strong woman guiding her, Samara's eyes drifted from painting to painting, and fell upon a wall scroll that was silver and syrup brown in color.

"That's Lucian's crest," she stated, "right?"

Lorant glanced back at the dark elf to see what she had discovered. When she found the wall scrolls, she nodded. "Yes, that's the crest of the Argent Erable."

"Are they all crests?" Samara asked, gesturing further down the hall. She skipped onward while Lorant trailed behind. She glanced back at the general, and Lorant nodded, so she turned her attention fully to the last scroll, a soot gray and olive green emblem. The image looked something like vines creeping along a stony wall. "This one's different," she noted. "It's the only one that isn't a tree."

"Likewise," Lorant spat, "its captain shouldn't be a knight."

Samara shrank away from both the cloth crest and the general. The venom in the general's voice was enough that, as curious as she was, Samara couldn't bring herself to ask why. Lorant continued upstairs with her hands balled into fists. Samara's eyes flicked back to the cloth before she followed.

The general stopped at the room nearest to the stairwell on the third floor and opened the door. "Can you wait here for a minute?" she asked, gesturing inside. Samara nodded, and Lorant headed deeper into the room.

Samara let go of her bag, clasping her hands behind her back, and strolled after the general. There were a number of things scattered about, but when her eyes fell upon the desk her jaw dropped. She forgot about everything else as she darted to it. There was an engraved wooden stand on the desk, in which sat a gem filled with colors—red, green, blue, and more!

"A rainbow crystal..." Samara murmured.

She followed the edge of the desk with her hands, hardly acknowledging the papers shuffled from their orderly alignment by her touch, and sat in the chair on the other side. Her eyes never left the crystal.

"Beautiful, aren't they?"

Samara nodded, her eyes flicking to the general's before resting again on the crystal. "Where did you find it?"

Lorant waved the elf away from the desk, but replied, "His Majesty gave it to me when I was promoted to general."

"That's only the second time I've seen one," Samara said.

"I'm surprised you've seen one at all," the general explained. "They're more common in the south, around the Dorse or Dichett regions."

Lorant waved her to get up again, and this time Samara complied. They returned to the hall. Samara counted four doors as she followed Lorant. The fourth door was where the general stopped, rapped above the knob, and then waited.

When they received no reply, Lorant opened the door. "Are you really out, or are you simply pretending to be?"

"General," Lucian said, altogether unfazed by the woman's intrusion, "forgive me. I'm not prepared for company."

Samara peered around the general. The room was tidy and plain, save the shirt draped carelessly over the back of the captain's chair and some loose pages scattered about his desk. Lucian wasn't looking their way. He was in bed with an open book in his lap and reaching for the shirt, though it must have been for show as the nearest sleeve was still inches out of reach. Samara's eyes were alight as they passed over his exposed torso. There was some tone, but he mostly looked soft—kind of like Rad, she thought. Her cheeks bubbled in a grin.

"You'd best prepare yourself, then," the general replied. "This one's come a long way to see you."

Samara had already weaseled her way around the general when at last Lucian turned their way. His lips, barely parted, hung open. It was as much surprise as the captain was going to show. Samara was in the captain's lap with her arms around him and her face smothered in his chest before he had in turn gotten a good look at her.

"Samara," he murmured. "What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting," she said, peering up at him. Though the book he had been reading was now sandwiched between them, she dared not remove her arms. If she did, he might try anew to grab that shirt.

"All by yourself?"

"Of course not, the band's here, too," she assured. "Well, not here, but in Radiata."

"I'll leave you two alone," Lorant said, a sly smile curling at the corners of her lips.

Samara glanced over her shoulder, grinning to the general as she left. The woman closed the door as she went, too, and Samara's grin broadened. She turned back to Lucian, and spied then that the captain still wore a single, small braid hanging over his shoulder and finished with beads. It wasn't her handiwork, she had laced beads all through the braids, but the beads themselves looked of the same make as the ones she wore herself.

As she reached out to touch the braid, Lucian put a hand on her shoulder and tilted his head in an attempt to catch her eyes with his.

When her attention flicked from the braid to meet his gaze, he explained, "Emilia did that for me."

Samara looked back to the braid, "But the beads..."

"The rest are in the top left drawer," Lucian said, "if you want them back."

Her eyes filled with delight. "You kept them?" No longer focused on keeping the captain shirtless, she crawled off of his lap and made her way to the far side of the desk to see. Inside the top drawer, sitting atop everything else, was a silk pouch open just enough to see the beads inside it.

"They're handcrafted, aren't they?" he asked. "Carved and painted."

Samara nodded. She pulled the pouch from the desk and tucked it into her bag. "Clay showed me how to make them." Beneath where the pouch had been was a small booklet. She pulled that out, too, and examined the cover. "This is your knight's charter." At least, she assumed it was. It looked just like Coty's. Her eyes flicked to Lucian's to see him nod in turn. She slid the drawer back into place, and crawled back onto the captain's bed beside him with the booklet and beads in hand.

Lucian didn't seem bothered that she had snatched the charter. He even eased back a bit, likely so he could read it over her shoulder. She flipped past a page whereon the captain had signed, another with the knights' code of conduct, and one that began some brief rundown of tactical approaches to a number of situations, but she paused to get a look at the map of Radiata on the centerfold. After retracing her steps to the castle, and repeating in her mind the lefts and rights that would return her safely to the band, she flicked through the remaining pages. It was filled with big words and human terms that were unfamiliar to her. Her attention waning, she flicked back to the signature page just inside the cover one last time. Her eyes found there, just below where the captain had scrawled his name, the simplest words in the charter.

"Knights of the same brigade are as family." Her eyes bright with wonder, she turned to look at Lucian—Lucian Hewitt, the signature said.

He replied with that slight smile he wore for most of the brigade's stay in the Forest Metropolis.

"I'm a part of your brigade, too, Captain," she reminded him. She bit her lips together, but it didn't hold back the bubble in her cheeks.

Lucian's smile stretched a little farther. "You are."

Samara quickly looked away. She could feel the scarlet burning her cheeks. Lucian sighed, the sound full of the warmth of his smile. He had caught her blushing, hadn't he? Before chancing a glance back in his direction, she reached out and cast the charter onto his desk. When she turned back again, she asked, "Can I play with your hair?"

Lucian chuckled. "Yes," he replied, "but leave fewer braids to unravel this time."

Samara fished loose the strings of the silk pouch while the captain scooted forward to give her better access to the full of his hair. She picked out a handful of red and orange beads.

"Do you mind if I read while you do?"

Samara peered up at him from her sorting. "What are you reading?"

"Just an old fairy tale," he said. He picked up the book, bookmarking his page with his thumb to show her the cover.

There was no title, and she assumed maybe it had been printed on the book's spine, but there was a picture on the cover of a human woman and light elf man holding one another. At the ends of the man's fingers were tendrils and leaflets of green, the onset of the algandars disease. Samara had never seen a picture to go with the story, but she had heard the story before—of a light elf king, his human queen, and the trials they faced had together before algandars claimed his soul.

"Samara?"

Her eyes flicked back to the captain's. "Will you read it to me?"

* * *

><p>Gil wasn't sure how far he had gone when he finally returned to ground-level. He dabbed at his eyes with the end of his scarf, and glanced around. He hadn't left the human city yet, but he knew home was to the north. The sun was setting over Tottaus, and he could use that as a compass to guide him. If not all the way home, then he could at least make his way to the Cuatour region between Radiata and the City of Flowers.<p>

The streets were quieter now than they had been when he and the dark elves had gone to the club that afternoon. The homes were in better shape here. They weren't patched together with quick fixes that only just stood up to stronger winds and rain, or defaced with graffiti. There was some semblance of care here, and Gil didn't feel quite so unwelcome.

He floated down the street, continuing to study the houses as he passed, when he came upon a massive building. There were lights on its face that didn't look like oil lamps, and they certainly weren't torches. They looked almost like the magic pools embedded in the walls of the Forest Metropolis.

There was a lighted arc around what looked like an entrance, but Gil couldn't see a knob, and the metal looked too heavy to push open. He set his feet on the ground and approached the entrance to get a better look. Maybe he had overlooked the opening mechanism. When he came near, the metal slab rose on its own. Gil jumped back and stared wide-eyed as it moved. After a few seconds, it came back down again. He gripped his notebook and stared at the door for several minutes. A quick look around told him no one was watching, and he crept closer to the door a second time. When it opened, he leaned forward just enough to get a look at where the metal slab had gone. There was a slit in the wall above it. The same number of seconds had been and gone, but this time the door didn't come back down. He stepped away from it again, and sure enough the door fell back into place.

Gil frowned. He certainly wanted to know more about the strange building, but there had to be safer way to get inside. He was on his way to the tower left of the entrance when he heard the metal door open for a third time.

"Teacher!" cried a small voice. "Teacher, teacher! Look!"

Gil turned back to the door in time to catch the human, as small as her voice, jump on him. He yelped and staggered back. Her arms were hooked about his neck, her legs around his waist, and her face was buried in his scarf. His doe-eyes stared at her, and then to the man beyond her.

"Teddy," the man called, "I know it's not everyday we see a light elf in Radiata, but you have to keep your hands to yourself."

The girl attached to Gil peered over her shoulder, and Gil had to tip his head back to make room for hers as it came under his chin. "I'm sorry," she said. She turned back to Gil and gave him a peck on the cheek before her toes reached for the ground.

The girl sidestepped around Gil, and disappeared behind him as the professor stopped before him. The man's robes were long, in reddish and earthy tones, and his hair was beginning to gray. This was the first human Gil had seen whose age showed in such a way, besides the ones he didn't have the chance to really look at during the meeting. It looked something like the dried streaks in Lord Cepheid's hair, except where the green had gone brown in his, the human's streaks were ashen. He must have been ancient.

"You'll have to look out for that one," the professor chuckled, "she's trouble."

No sooner had the professor spoken, Gil yelped and jolted towards him. The girl's hands had touched his wings. He looked back at her over his shoulder, and she beamed at him.

"They're magic!" she cheered.

She stepped towards him, hands extending as if she would touch his wings again. Gil slipped around the professor and kept the man between him and the girl. Thankfully, the professor scooped her into his arms and held her so she couldn't grab at Gil again.

"What brings you to Radiata?" the man asked. "Just visiting?"

Gil nodded evasively. "Well, yes..."

The girl squirmed in the professor's hold until she had locked eyes with Gil. "Are light elves really immortal?"

"Teddy, we talked about that in class."

"I wanna hear it from him," she insisted, pointing at the elf.

Since she continued to stare at him from the professor's arms, Gil offered the girl a tiny smile. "It's kind of true," he replied.

"That's so cool," Teddy stated. "Is your hair grass?"

"Something like that."

The girl paused and her stare intensified. She wriggled free of the professor's hold. The man motioned to stop her, but this time when she approached Gil she didn't jump on him, or even touch him. That stare, however, was becoming unnerving.

"What is it?" Gil asked, staring back.

"You have pretty eyes," she said.

Gil's cheeks flushed, and he averted his gaze. Adjusting his hold on his notebook, he shifted half a step back. At that, her eyes were left to fall upon the leaf-bound book.

"What's that?"

The professor sighed. "Teddy, that's enough."

"But I wanna see," she whined. She grabbed at the air between her and the notebook and turned her big, brown eyes on Gil. "Please?"

Gil looked down at the notebook in his arms. His eyes flicked to hers again of their own accord, and he couldn't pull them away. With a deep breath, and a long sigh, he relinquished the notebook to her.

"I'm gonna sit down with it," she said.

Gil gaped as Teddy turned away from him and skipped towards the metal slab of a door. He flew after her to reclaim his poetry, but with the head start she was already through the door. He stopped on the outside of it and stared after her. There were chairs in the lobby, and that was where she sat beside a bespectacled boy who looked about the same age as her. She smiled at him from there, and patted the empty seat on her other side as if to invite him to join them. Still, Gil didn't trust the strange entrance.

The professor stepped around the elf and stood beneath where the metal door would fall. "You're welcome to come in," he offered.

"But," Gil murmured. He gestured vaguely to the doorway. "I don't understand."

"It runs on a sensor," the professor explained. "When someone walks near it, it opens. It stays open as long as they're close, and then it closes when they walk away."

"You're sure it's safe?" Gil asked, peering up into the slit where the door had gone.

"I'm sure," the man said.

Gil crept closer to the entrance, still watching where the slab had disappeared. When he was sure it wasn't coming down, he dove inside. At the bemused look on the professor's face, who still stood in the entrance, Gil rubbed at his arms. It wasn't until the man joined him inside that at last the door closed behind them.

"Now, I don't mean to pull you away from your journal," the professor said, "but would you join me upstairs for a moment?"

Gil looked ahead in the direction the man walked, where there was a flight of stairs, but there was a bend halfway up, and he couldn't see all the way to the top. Without his book in his arms, he gripped instead at the fringe of his scarf, but he nodded.

The place to which the professor led him was open like the reception foyer below, but with a bigger desk, more cabinets and bookshelves, and fewer chairs. There were other rooms connected to it, too, but the professor was reaching into one of the desk's drawers and Gil assumed they would be going no farther.

The man withdrew a scroll, and untied the ribbon which held it shut. He studied its contents for a moment before waving Gil over from the stairwell. "What do you know about this?"

Gil floated over the desk as the professor laid the scroll flat. Upon it read words he had heard before.

_In the birth cry of the cosmos  
>The twin eyes awake<br>Above us they shine  
>The world made safe for our sake<br>The forests they flourish  
>The towers grow high<br>The four lights shine down  
>Chaos withers and dies<br>But imbalance grows  
>Forests turn dark<br>This is our doom  
>The tower breaks the sky;<br>Here come the dragons to bring it down_

Gil's eyes caught on the last verse. Though he was certainly familiar with the poem, he had never fully understood it. He couldn't fathom why the dragons would have to do anything so devastating. And he certainly couldn't imagine Lord Cepheid, the most noble and compassionate creature he knew, doing it.

"Is it a myth? Fiction perpetuated by the public to disturb the peace between the races?" the man asked. "Or is there some truth to these words?"

"I..." Gil murmured, "I don't know."

The professor sighed. Already with his head in his hand, the man sat down in the chair behind the desk. He stared sidelong at the scripture.

"Here's your book back," came a voice behind him.

Gil gasped, his eyes flicking from the page. He hadn't even heard the girl join them. Evidently, when she wished to be, Teddy had it in her to be quiet.

"I like the ones about animals and flowers," the girl said. "You write a lot of nice things."

Gil reached out to reclaim the notebook. "Thank you."

Before he had secured it in his hands, she had pulled it back to herself. "Are they real?"

"Are what real?" Gil asked, and with the prophecy plainly spread in front of him, he feared she would ask about the dragons.

"These," she said. She searched for a page, and set the notebook open on top of the scroll. "Right there." The verse she pointed to wasn't about dragons at all. It was the poem Coty had criticized.

"Evening blooms," Gil said. "Yes, they're real."

"Really real?"

"They're common in the Marais region," he explained. "We use them to light our homes."

The girl peered at the pages of the notebook, seeming to read the verses again, before she looked up at Gil. "When you come to Radiata again, can you bring me one?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Hey, look, someone has the courtesy to ask before they swipe Gil's notebook! Reviews would be wonderful~ And feel free to critique (anon, even, if you're uncomfortable doing it signed). I'd be happy to hear your thoughts, whether you like it or don't, or speculation on what you think will happen as things progress. In the next chapter, we stray from Lucian and Gil. Coty attempts to make amends with Ledert, Clay lives up to the nickname Mama Hen, and for the first time we'll see what the plague is really all about.


	6. Don't Mind Mama Hen

**Chapter Six - Don't Mind Mama Hen  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Coty watched from the dance floor. He didn't care much more for the redheaded elf than she did for him, but he had danced most of the night away and she still sat and stared at everyone who was having more fun than she was. It didn't help that, while Mina was within arm's reach of Coty on the dance floor, Sawyer was seated across the table from the dark elf. He didn't seem to be bothering her. He had company at the table beside theirs, and they were ignoring the girl completely. Although Coty knew after Gil's outburst that she couldn't like Sawyer any more than she liked him, her loneliness looked twice as unbearable.<p>

"It's getting late, you know," Mina said. Coty's eyes flicked to hers, and she added, "If you're going to ask her to dance, you should do it before they call it a night."

Coty nodded, but hadn't yet made the effort to return to the table. Mina took him by the arm and guided him there. Coty stood in front of the table while Mina took her seat beside Sawyer's. Her eyes peered into his for a moment before she immersed herself in Sawyer's conversation. That left Coty alone, as the dark elf was.

He watched the transaction between Sawyer and his guild mates, an item passing from their hands to Sawyer's. Sawyer handed them a thick packet of dagols in return. The item looked like a rock. A smooth, oval-shaped rock, but a rock all the same. Coty suppressed a laugh at how ridiculous it looked to see the Fer Lierre's captain relinquish so much for so little.

Coty was balking. He stepped around the table to Ledert, and as he did she turned her head the other way and rested it on her arms. Coty sighed and shook his head. He was about to take a seat when Mina's eyes flicked to his. He bit his lips together, and looked again to Ledert.

"Wanna dance?"

"Not with you," she replied.

"Look, I know you don't like me—"

"I hate you," the elf amended.

Coty sighed, and continued as though she hadn't spoken. "But you've been eyeing that dance floor all night, and at this point, it's obvious that Gil won't be back before they're done playing."

"What if he doesn't come back at all?"

"Then we'll go look for him," Coty said. "But we shouldn't go until the band's finished playing, when we can tell them where everyone's gone."

At last, the redhead shifted off of her arms, and peered up at him. "Promise you'll help me find Gil."

Coty nodded. "I promise."

As she rose from her seat, the tempo slowed. Coty huffed as he realized why she had been reluctant to get up and dance. She must have known which songs the band would play. Maybe Samara had known, too. Still, Coty had set out to lift Ledert's spirits, and he wasn't about to let her down now. He held out his arm for her. Her eyes flicked to his, and her fingers curled as she decided whether or not she really wanted to dance. But soon enough, they were on the floor together. Coty had his arms around Ledert, and she had her hands on his shoulders. At least, Coty mused, the dark elf wasn't taking it as poorly as Sawyer did dancing with Samara.

"Coty," she murmured.

"Mm?"

"Do you think he's okay?"

Coty paused, and she stopped with him. It could be a dangerous neighborhood, he knew, but he wasn't about to tell her so. He also wasn't about to tell her that the guild beside the bandit hangout was full of brawny guys (and girls) who, while they weren't bad people, would likely be too rough around the edges for a gentle soul like Gil. Unless he flew over it all to the magic school, or beyond that and out of Radiata, he very well could be in trouble. But... "He can fly," Coty replied.

Ledert peered up at him, her brow furrowed and her lips set in a scowl. "Well, duh."

"No, I mean humans can't fly, right?" he said. "So if he ran into trouble out there, all he's gotta do is get in the air, and they can't hurt him." Coty smiled. Although the words had come from his own lips, he found himself as relieved as the dark elf standing with him to hear it.

Her scowling features had relaxed, and from his shoulders her hands curled instead around his neck. She was beginning to loosen up. Coty eased Ledert back into motion, and they danced until the music stopped. Even before it had ended, Ledert was steering Coty closer to the band, and they were now only a couple yards from the platform.

"Where's Samara?" asked a voice behind them.

Ledert was already looking at the drummer on stage when Coty turned to him. "She went to the castle," the knight replied.

The drummer's eyes flicked from the elf to the knight, and then back to Ledert. "You didn't stop her," he grumbled. "Why didn't you stop her?"

"You knew she was gonna do it," said the guitarist. "Let her have her fun."

"Let her get lost in the streets of Radiata," Clay muttered. "And what about the light elf? Where did he run off to?"

"We're going to find him," Ledert stated, and her eyes flicked to Coty's.

"We?"

"Yeah," Coty said, "we're leaving right now."

"No, you can go by yourself. She stays with us."

Rad waved over Clay's shoulder. "We'll see you when you get back, Ladybird~"

The drummer turned and glared at the guitarist before throwing down his sticks and stalking back towards his drum set.

"Don't mind Mama Hen," Rad assured, a goofy grin on his cheeks. "But try not to stay out too late."

Ledert nodded, and Coty led her out of the club. They searched around the club, in the lobbies of the apartment complexes nearby, in the alleys between the buildings, and the inn at which the elves were staying while they were in Radiata. If Gil was still in the human city, he had left the grimier streets. The redheaded elf affixed to Coty's shadow was nearly brushing against him, and she had fallen silent again. He wasn't sure if she was still upset with him, or if being out in the city without someone more familiar to her made her nervous.

They continued towards the warrior guild, where Coty had first made his mark in the city. He kept his eyes downturned as they went. Although the light elf might very well have been in the area, Coty's pace hastened in the direction of the magic school. He would skirt the city before he would linger in these streets again.

The school was in sight when the dark elf behind him took hold of his arm. Coty's eyes flicked to hers, but she was looking into the falling darkness behind them. "He's staring at us," she murmured.

Coty glanced back over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was a man lurking behind them. His unshaven face and ragged dress made him seem less like someone from the warrior guild, and more like a creature out the sewers beneath the city. The only feature belying the vagrant look was the girth of the man's torso. He was built like an orc, and just as ugly.

"Keep going," Coty whispered, and he steered the dark elf onwards.

Ledert wouldn't stop looking back. When his curiosity got the better of him, Coty took another look, and discovered why. That ragged stranger was getting closer to them. He was no longer making any effort to be discreet. Coty wondered if he had just overlooked that much before. He turned fully to the man, and he was grateful to see out of the corner of his eye Ledert stepping behind him.

"What do you want?" he called to the man.

The stranger walked until he stood chest to chest with Coty. Although the man stank of dirt and sweat, and even some things Coty dared not think about, there was no trace of alcohol on the man's breaths. Coty stepped back. Ledert's hands ghosted against his shoulder blades.

"That wench," the stranger breathed, and he was staring around Coty, "that filthy little fairy!"

As the man reached around him, Coty shoved against his arms. He did what he could to stay between the man and the elf behind him. "Run, Ledert!" he hissed. He flailed back, and hoped he pointed straight in the direction they had been headed—to the magic school. "Go straight to those lights, get Professor Weissheit!"

"She's nothing but a demon!" the man bellowed. "Why do you defend her?"

"She's done nothing wrong," Coty stated. "She's just—"

"You..." the man huffed, "you're on her side!"

Coty barely had time to duck as the man's fist swung in a wide arc overhead. He didn't see the other arm coming from below, and staggered back as it struck him hard in the gut. Coty stepped around the man's swings, and for a while they seemed to go in circles. There was no style to the man's attacks, just relentless, heavy swings. He wasn't aiming just to hit Coty, he was aiming right through the knight, throwing himself around like an animal.

Thus far, Coty had been lucky. He had speed over the bigger stranger, but his brawn couldn't even begin to compare, and of course he didn't carry his spear along when he was only out to dance. He continued to tango until he twisted to avoid a blow. It pulled where the first strike had hit, and Coty doubled over in recoil. As he recovered from the strain, he glanced up and staggered around the next swing. The stranger was so near, Coty got a whiff of him again. It was too near. Before the knight could draw back, the man's skull crashed against his. Coty dropped to the ground, and the man drew back his leg to punt.

Discs of wind came whistling through the air, striking the man on his front and sides. He staggered back. Coty rolled onto his hands and knees, facing the magic school.

"Stay down, Coty," the professor cautioned.

The professor eyed the stranger, holding his staff out before him, and the end began to glow. Coty crawled towards them on three limbs. The other arm, he kept wrapped about his stomach. Behind the professor were both Ledert and Gil. The dark elf was peering around the mage at him, and the light elf watched as more wind discs cut through the air. Good, Coty thought. When this was over, he could take them back to the band, and himself back to the castle, before there was any more trouble.

The professor set the butt of his staff on the ground, and stepped around Coty to the ragged stranger.

"Are you okay?" Ledert asked. She bent next to the knight, and helped him back to his feet.

Coty glanced back at the man, now on the ground, and sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." He looked up at the professor. "Evander?"

The professor's eyes flicked to his, and then back to the man on the ground.

"What happened?" Gil asked.

"He attacked us," Coty huffed. "Without reason."

"He's not the only one," the professor said. "The castle guard is trying to keep it quiet. But I thought, being in the castle, you would have heard something about this by now."

"What?" Coty grumbled. "That people some people are crazy and aggressive for no reason?" When the professor nodded, Coty smirked. "Like Sawyer?"

"That would explain a few things, wouldn't it?" Evander sighed. "But no, I fear what damage he could do if he were infected by such a thing. This disease drives even the most docile people to madness."

"It's not contagious, is it?" Gil murmured.

"I hope not, or at least that it's not as easy to catch as a cold," the professor admitted, "but just in case, Coty, I think you should take them back to their friends."

* * *

><p>Clay spun one of his drumsticks on the end of his finger. It fell out of balance and he stumbled to catch it. He groaned as it hit the ground and bent over to collect it. It was no use waiting for the girls to come back. Ledert would stay out with the knight until they had found the light elf, and if Samara had made it all the way to the castle, she had likely fallen asleep in that captain's bed.<p>

Coty, he trusted. The knight was open and honest, for better or worse. But Clay couldn't be sure the captain was the same. The only point at which the captain had put force behind his voice in the Forest Metropolis was to reprimand Coty for the infraction against Gil. He hadn't even raised his voice to do it, and otherwise he was compliant. Clay gripped his drumsticks until his knuckles turned white. He refused to believe anyone could be so indifferent.

Standing outside the inn and waiting for the girls to return wasn't going to bring them back any faster. It also wasn't going to stop the human passersby from gawking. Clay pulled away from the outside wall and trudged inside. His tired eyes traveled up the stairwell, and down the hall as far as he could see. Of course their room would be the backmost room on the second floor. He took the stairs one at a time, his eyes only a step ahead of his feet and his hand gripping the railing.

He had turned at the top of the stairs, and taken a few steps towards their room, when a tap came at his shoulder. He glanced back to find a woman with long dark hair that curled around cleavage she did little to cover. Clay frowned. Her outfit was more revealing than Samara's.

"You're the drummer, right?" she asked. "What was your name again?"

"Clay," he replied simply.

He had begun to turn back towards his room when she said, "I was wondering..."

Clay held her gaze out of the corner of his eyes, but didn't turn back to her.

She leaned closer. He could feel her breath hot on his skin as she continued. "Would you like to perform a duet with me?"

"Sorry," he replied, "I only play with the band."

"Don't be so naïve, honey," she chuckled.

"There you are!" Rad said, stepping between Clay and that woman's breasts.

The guitarist set his hand on Clay's cheek, and pulled his face around to bring their lips together. At first, Clay eased back. But his eyes were still half-open and able to see the woman's jaw hanging open behind the guitarist. He slipped an arm around Rad's waist, and the guitarist's other arm slid around his shoulders. Clay's tongue flicked out to taste the other performer's lips before he pulled away. Rad began to steer Clay onward to their room.

"Where have you been?" the guitarist asked. "Holly's lonely in there."

Clay glanced over his shoulder at the woman's bewildered stare. "Just getting some air," he replied, and turned his attention back to the hall. But for good measure, he let his hand fall to Rad's ass and gave it a squeeze before they turned into their room.

Hollace's eyes flicked to theirs as Clay removed Rad's arm from around his shoulders. The small dark elf was untying his kerchief, but paused long enough to wave. Clay settled on the edge of the bed, and crossed his arms.

"You should lie down if you're tired," the guitarist told him.

Clay shook his head. "Not until—"

"They come back," Rad sighed. "I know, Mama Hen. But you're tired."

Clay made no effort to comply, and the guitarist sank onto the bed beside him. "Sitting and waiting for them to come back won't bring them back any faster."

The drummer glared sidelong at Rad. Of course it wouldn't, but they were young girls in a foreign neighborhood in the company of strangers. Clay's stomach wasn't going to stop turning until he could be sure they were safe, and until it settled he wouldn't find sleep.

A tap came at the door. The band said nothing and waited until it opened a crack. A familiar redhead peeked inside and offered the band a tiny smile before opening the door wide and revealing behind her the knight who had taken her, and the light elf they had gone to find.

"We're back," she greeted, ushering Gil inside.

The light elf stepped around the far wall. His eyes flicked once to each of the performers' own before he turned them to the floor and avoided everyone.

Ledert glanced over her shoulder to the knight. "Thanks for your help."

Coty nodded. Above his brow, hidden beneath a few strands of hair, Clay was sure he could see a bump. The knight was turning to leave, and Ledert was closing the door behind him.

"Wait," the drummer called. He shifted to stand, but the knight had stopped. "Could you—"

"Look for Samara?" Coty finished.

"And bring her back when you find her?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Feedback would be appreciated, especially criticism, but is not necessary~ Tell me what you're enjoying, what you're not, what you think is going to happen... anything. :3 In the next chapter, Lucian's brigade is assigned a new mission, and Samara re-encounters that big-mouthed, box-faced creeper.


	7. Is That a Rainbow Crystal?

**Chapter Seven - Is That a Rainbow Crystal?  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Lucian's fingers grabbed at the air where there should have been a blanket. His legs prickled with warmth though his bare belly was covered in goose bumps. He couldn't remember why he had slept topless, and propped himself up on his elbows to look around for his shirt. He found it, still slung over his chair where he had left it the night before. He slid out of bed, plucked it from where it hung, and pulled it over his head. But as he wormed his arms into the sleeves, it caught on his left arm. He wrestled his hand through the opening, and found what had caused the fuss. A bracelet of alternating turquoise painted and resin coated beads had been tied around his wrist.<p>

Now half-dressed, he looked around for other signs that Samara had been there. Of course, he had a dozen more braids in his hair, and both the silk pouch full of beads and Samara's shoulder bag were sitting on his desk. Lucian couldn't fathom her leaving her bag or beads behind, at least not without reason. Regardless, she was not here with him now. She seemed like the kind of girl who loved to explore, but this was not somewhere she should wander.

Maybe she had gone back to the band, Lucian mused. And maybe she left her effects as an excuse to return to the castle. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips at the thought. He stepped into the hallway, and made his way downstairs. Without a doubt she would stand out in the castle, so even if she had left, it shouldn't be hard to find her.

He descended from the third floor. As he rounded the bend from the second floor to the first, a different blonde head was coming up the other way. Lucian smiled as Drago passed. "Have you seen a dark elf around?"

"Oh, is she your friend?" Drago asked, and Lucian nodded. "She's in the banquet hall with Emilia."

That wasn't far, and the young knight had probably just come from there. Lucian made his way to the banquet hall and stood quietly in the doorway. Samara was sitting beside Emilia. They were chattering as they had been in the Forest Metropolis. Samara wore a lace dress that fell just past her knees. Lucian was sure he had seen Emilia wearing it before, so breakfast was likely just one of many endeavors between the girls that morning.

Emilia was holding up a fork, and Samara was focused on the utensil. Her eyes were alight with wonder, but her cheeks weren't smiling. She looked to the table before her, and selected a fork similar to the one Emilia held, and then mimicked the way the knight held it. Emilia must have been showing Samara table manners. The dainty approach to food was strange contrast to the manners of the other knights in the banquet hall shoveling serving spoons of porridge into their mouths, and with juice dribbling from their whiskers. Lucian wondered why Emilia hadn't led Samara to the nobles' banquet area at other end of the castle where the dark elf would have a better impression of what proper manners looked like. As it was, Emilia was scowling at one of the particularly uncouth individuals who wore as much of his meal as he ate.

Lucian stepped around the other knights, and to the table Emilia and Samara shared. "Good morning."

"Lucian, look!" Samara dropped the fork, stood from her seat, and straightened the dress. "Emi said I could borrow it for the day. Isn't it pretty?"

"It is," Lucian admitted. "Different, but nice."

"Are you going to show her around Radiata?" Emilia asked.

Lucian sighed. "I doubt I could get away with that."

"I could cover for you," Emilia said. "General Lorant wouldn't mind. We'll just say you're building positive relations with the fairy creatures. The commander-in-chief can't be angry with you for that, can he?"

Lucian shook his head. "No, I suppose not."

"Then what are we waiting for, Captain?" Samara said, beaming at Lucian. "Let's go!"

They waved goodbye to Emilia, and Samara took Lucian's arm. He led her through the halls, and to the front gates.

"Where would you like to go?" Lucian asked.

Samara put a finger to her lips, her eyes rolling skyward as if in thought, before she replied, "I wanna see what kind of jewelry humans make."

"Another one!" cried a tiny voice before Lucian could comment.

Lucian and Samara turned to the source of the voice. A young girl wearing student's garb and a green ribbon in her hair attached herself to Samara. The dark elf snuggled the child right back. Lucian had to think to recall the girl's name.

"Teddy," he said.

"Lucian," the girl said back, her voice muffled in the thick of Samara's dress. "Is daddy here?"

"I don't know," Lucian said. "He was out late last night." The captain smiled. "But if he is here, he's probably still in bed. I think you should go wake him up."

The girl grinned and gave Samara one last squeeze before dashing farther into the castle.

Lucian and Samara proceeded into the streets of Radiata. The sun was bright and warm on their faces, and already Samara was fussing with the dress. To distract her from her discomfort, Lucian slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her far shoulder a gentle squeeze. Beneath the red markings on her cheeks, the whole of her face glowed crimson. She tensed, and her lips pressed into an awkward sort of smile, but Lucian had successfully stopped her fussing.

He peered down at the dark elf in his company and asked, "Is there any shop in particular you'd like to visit?"

Samara's gaze flicked to his. "I don't know," she said. "But I passed some on the way here. Can we go see them?"

Lucian nodded. "There's a jewelry shop that the general frequents not far from here."

The shop was easy to find. They had gone as far as the street Samara must have followed to get to the castle, and turned right. Although he could feel her skin aflame, she huddled closer to him as they proceeded down the street. A quick glance around told him why. People were staring. Lucian rubbed at Samara's back, and when her eyes searched his for a reason he smiled. Although she turned her gaze back to the street, the smile growing on her lips was enough to say he had done the right thing.

"There it is!" she said.

Lucian reached after the dark elf as she ran ahead, leaving a chill beneath his arm where she had been. He chuckled, and hastened his pace after her. Samara stopped after she opened the door. She stood there for a moment, and the glow in her cheeks faded.

When Lucian reached the shop, he asked, "What is it?"

Samara's eyes were fixed on the lenses of the shopkeeper's boxy goggles. She leaned back into Lucian, and the captain held the door open as she released it.

"It's great to see you again, my dear!" the shopkeeper said. "You look ravishing in that dress." The grin spread across his cheeks took up more of his face than the goggles did.

Lucian had met the man before while he was out with the general. As strange as Oriel seemed, Lucian was sure he was harmless. He stepped inside, gently easing Samara into the shop. The dark elf balked. Her feet didn't want to move, her hands were clenched into fists, and she might have even leaned deeper into Lucian.

"Don't be shy," the shopkeeper said. "Come on in!"

Lucian set his hands on Samara's shoulders. She tensed briefly, and then flicking her eyes to his she at last relaxed and stepped inside.

"I'm afraid I didn't get your name last night, my dear," the man said as the door latched back into place.

"Samara," she murmured.

She was still reluctant to take her eyes from the eccentric shopkeeper. Although Lucian could feel her skin burning, she kept so close to him it was as though they were one.

"Well, Samara," Oriel beamed, "might I interest you in sapphire charms? Or how about ruby earrings?" He gestured as broadly as he grinned. Either he was oblivious to her discomfort, or figured if she were genuinely interested in his jewels she would eventually let her guard down.

Samara gasped. She leaned forward just a hair. What she saw, if it was really right before her, was neither the sapphires nor the rubies. "What is that?" she whispered. She clutched Lucian's sleeve and pulled him towards the counter.

The captain examined the jewelry arranged in the display, but their value was over his head. Some were colorful, others clear. Some were smooth, and others lightly textured or outright jagged. But in their own ways, they were all attractive pieces. Samara let go of Lucian's shirt and put her hands on the glass of the display. Lucian thought to scold her, but from the corner of his eyes he could see that the shopkeeper hadn't flinched at the intrusion. In fact, Oriel's grin stretched all the way to his ears. Lucian took another look at the collection behind the glass.

"Is that a rainbow crystal?" Samara murmured, as Lucian finally found the ring she had zeroed in on.

As the name implied, the crystal looked as though it was composed of the elements themselves. The colors varied in hue and intensity as Lucian shifted around Samara to get a better look. Although it wasn't really changing, the angle from which one looked at it made it appear to change colors inside.

"Would you like to try it on?" Oriel asked.

Samara turned fully to the shopkeeper beside them, who was moving to the end of the counter to get behind it. "Can I?" The shine in her eyes was brighter than the midday sun.

"Of course you can, my dear," the shopkeeper replied. He pulled a key on a chain from within the collar of his robes, and fit it into the heavy padlock that sealed the display. He reached for the crystal with one hand, and over the counter with the other. "Give me your hand."

Her reluctance had vanished, Lucian noted, as she eagerly thrust her arm over the counter for him. The shopkeeper's lips parted, revealing his grinning teeth, as he took her hand and eased the ring onto her finger. He seemed to caress her hand before he released it, after which Samara drew her hands close to herself and examined the crystal. Her eyes reflected its colors in silent wonder. She pawed at the band, pulling it halfway off, and then sliding it back into place around the base of her finger. It was a perfect fit.

"This..." she breathed, "must be worth a fortune."

"It is," Oriel admitted. "Twenty thousand dagols."

Lucian nearly had to hold his jaw shut. The dwarves' exceptional craftsmanship of his sword and armor weren't worth even half of that sum.

Samara solemnly nodded, as if she heard the gasp Lucian dared not utter. She took a deep breath, and seemed to hold it as she pulled the ring from her finger and set it back on the counter. For a moment, she just held it there. When it seemed as though she wouldn't ever let it go, she spread her fingers wide and quickly withdrew her hand from the counter. Just as fast, while the ring clinked upon the countertop, she stepped around Lucian and for the door. She was outside again before Lucian had even turned to see where she was going.

"She loves her jewelry," the shopkeeper said.

Lucian's eyes flicked to the man's, and he nodded.

"She wants that crystal."

"General Lorant said the same last night," Lucian replied. "She wants a rainbow crystal of her own."

"And you want her to have it."

"I could never afford something like that."

"But you could afford a band without it," the man said.

Lucian turned fully to the eccentric shopkeeper.

"For a thousand dagols," Oriel continued, "if you can find me a crystal, she'll have what she desires."

Lucian's expression flattened in a scowl. He hadn't known the dark elf for long. It was a nice thought, and comparatively that price was almost reasonable, but where would he even begin to look for such a crystal? He turned away from the man and made his way to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, Lucian paused and shook his head.

"Think about it," the man said, "because that's a beautiful band she's made for you."

Lucian shoved the door open and stepped out without another word or gesture to acknowledge the man. Samara stood against a bare stretch of wall between the jewelry shop and the general store beside it. When she saw him, she wiped at her cheeks, and put on a smile. The curl of her lips didn't sit quite right, and there was still moisture around her eyes.

Because she was anxious to hide how she felt, Lucian asked, "Where else would you like to go?"

Samara sighed, and before she replied she frowned. "I should see the guys," she said. "I'll bet they're worried."

"Lorant said she would let them know where you were and that you were well." And Coty, too, his mind added.

"Yeah," Samara conceded, "but Clay needs to see it to believe it."

"Well then," he said, and he held his arm out for her, "shall we?"

Samara giggled. There was a genuine smile on her face again, and Lucian couldn't help but smile in turn as she curled her arm around his. They continued through the streets, and to the inn at which the elves were staying. When they arrived, at the top of the stairs and outside the door of their room, Samara tapped and then let herself in. The small, kerchief-wearing dark elf, Hollace, was sound asleep in the nearest bed. Gil peered at them over the edge of his notebook from the middle bed, and greeted them with a wave of his quill. They were the only two in the room.

"Where is everyone?" Samara asked.

"They went out for lunch," Gil replied, tapping the end of his quill against his lips. "But that was over an hour ago. They should be back soon."

Samara grinned. "Is Clay mad?"

The light elf bit down on the quill and nodded vigorously.

"Very?"

"Very," came a stern voice behind them.

Lucian schooled the smile from his lips as he glanced over his shoulder to the source of the voice. He didn't have to strain his neck as the drummer was fast approaching them.

"Hi," Samara said. Her grin sounded as though it had grown in spite of (or maybe because of) the deep set scowl on Clay's face. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed to Lucian not a grin but a disarmingly sweet smile.

Clay leveled his glare on them both, as if to say _you're the responsible adult, Lucian. You should have brought her back_. As the drummer had in the Forest Metropolis, however, he offered little commentary other than the quip with which he had greeted them.

"Are you having fun?" said the guitarist, only a step behind the drummer and carrying the last of their company, Ledert, on his back. His small ponytail bobbed as he sidled Lucian and Samara. He seemed his jovial self, too, in spite of the company he kept.

Samara nodded. "Lots of fun," she said. "So much fun, in fact, I'm gonna spend another night in the castle." She glanced over her shoulder at Lucian, holding her hands together before herself and pretending she understood what it meant to be a lady. "Right, Captain?"

* * *

><p>It was early in the evening, not yet time for dinner, when Lucian and Samara had finally made their way back to Radiata Castle. Besides the heavy guardsmen standing watch by the door, there was also a familiar face. Lucian waved to Coty while the younger knight's jaw dropped at the sight of Samara. It must have been the dress.<p>

"What are you doing out here?" Lucian asked.

Coty pulled his eyes from Samara's uncharacteristic attire to reply. "Waiting for you. Lord Allard has summoned us."

Samara looked to Lucian. "What does that mean?"

"It could mean we have an assignment."

"And the commander-in-chief could be furious that you spent the day outside the castle without taking proper leave from your position, Captain."

Lucian shook his head and led the way inside, casting a glance over his shoulder to ensure that the younger knight followed him. "He delivers assignments in the afternoon to be fulfilled starting the following morning, unless it's urgent."

"Urgent," Coty sneered when the guardsmen were out of earshot, "like we're ever assigned anything serious."

"It's all serious," Lucian said. "Did he tell you what this was about?"

Coty shook his head.

"What about Emilia, where is she?"

"I don't know," Coty muttered. "I don't follow her around the castle."

Lucian led the way. It was a quiet march up the stairs and down the hall to the commander-in-chief's room. It wasn't until they had reached it that Lucian glanced back to Coty and Samara. "Samara," he said, "I need you to wait out here."

Coty was already tapping at the door.

From the other side, they heard an exaggerated, "Hm?"

Coty tested the door, knowing as well as Lucian that it would be locked if Allard was not accepting visitors. It opened. "I've found Captain Lucian," he greeted.

Allard peered from the papers on his desk to the knights, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. "Lucian," Allard drawled.

Lucian followed Coty inside, and closed the door. When it latched, he offered the commander-in-chief the faintest of smiles. "What is it?"

"You're building positive relations with the fairy creatures, I hear," Allard replied. "Emilia's words, not mine."

Lucian's smile broadened of its own accord.

"Should I go get her?" Coty asked.

Allard shook his head. "Fill her in later. It's you who needs to hear this." He stared at the captain through his slim lenses.

Lucian nodded. "All right, then. Let's hear it."

"Since you're so eager to mediate with the non-humans, and since we would prefer to continue our surveillance of the general a little while longer," the commander-in-chief said, "it has been decided that rather than the Platine Saule, the Argent Erable shall be the brigade to oversee a construction project in the Cuatour region."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Just a reminder, if you're curious to know what these guys look like, I have drawings related to this on DeviantArt (link to the folder in my profile). :3 In the next chapter, an unlikely brigade is assigned a mission in the Marais (Elf) region, and we see that not all light elves feel the same as Gil does about Lord Cepheid.


	8. Your Mother's Calling

**Chapter Eight - Your Mother's Calling  
><strong>

* * *

><p>The Cuatour region didn't look much different than it had the last time the Argent Erable had been through it weeks before when they had visited the City of Flowers and the Forest Metropolis. The fields were beginning to brown, but autumn hadn't effected as much change here as it had in the Nowem region. The trees still held their leaves, though they might not for much longer. The lake was still tolerably lukewarm, so Coty had informed the captain. But here they stood to oversee as human hands wrought change on the region.<p>

"I still think this is a dumb idea," Coty muttered.

"I know, Coty," Lucian replied. "To build a wall between Radiata and the homes of the fairy races is only going to encourage our differences."

"It's not just a wall," the knight said, "it's a whole damned fortress."

Lucian turned to look again at the walls on either side of them. The valley had its sharpest cliffs here. The crew the Argent Erable was assigned to defend had their work cut out for them hacking into and leveling the crevice to the drafted dimensions. The very rock they disturbed would be broken down into the building blocks of the outermost walls, and the walls would run from one end of the cliff to the other, regulating passage from the northern reaches to the town of Radiata. There was nothing yet but a couple small shacks that had been raised around the site on either side of the crevice, and caravans full of supplies. The goats they had pulling those carts were targeted by wolves more than the builders were, but the knights were obligated to defend them as well. The only one of them who seemed at all interested in the mission was Emilia, who was currently out of earshot and sizing up some of the men hired to build the fort.

"It's like they think we're going to war."

Lucian's attention snapped back to Coty. He shook his head. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

Coty was scowling towards the elf region. "Who do you think was the idiot who killed the earth dragon and pissed the fairies off?"

"I..."_ don't know, _Lucian had begun to say.

He noticed then that other knights were marching through the site, the Fer Lierre brigade. Lucian was sure, though, that the brigade had six prominent members. Here there were only three. They were without armor, and equipped with human-made weapons rather than the superior dwarf craft lent to the knights. They tread quietly. Its wild-haired captain flashed a grin at Lucian. He was sneaking up on Coty. He stretched, his arms reaching above his head and almost as if he might sling one of them around Coty's shoulders. Instead, the other captain nested his hands in the thick of his hair, and elbowed Coty in the back of the head.

"The hell was that for?" Coty hissed, shoving at the offender.

The wild-haired captain's grin broadened. He stepped around Coty and strolled onward as if he had done no ill.

Coty gaped before stepping after the newcomer. "Wait, Sawyer, what are you doing here?"

"We're just passing through," Mina replied. She offered him a smile as she steered Drago after their captain. There was a hint of forgery laced beneath the breadth of her lips.

"Where are you going?" Coty asked.

"We have an assignment in the—what was it—_Marais_ region," Sawyer replied.

Coty paused while the Fer Lierre continued onward. "Where's that?"

"It's the proper name of the elf region," the wild-haired captain said, "so Drago tells me." As he mentioned the knight behind him, Sawyer slowed to fall in step beside Drago, and slid an arm around the smaller knight's shoulders. Drago flinched at the contact, and kept his eyes on the ground in front of him.

"But why would they assign _you_ to the elf region?" Coty redoubled his pace to catch up to the brigade as they continued onward. "You never get missions up there."

Lucian sighed. He couldn't help but take a few steps after them himself as one of his knights wandered astray from their mission. "Coty, don't go too far." The distance between them had grown too great to read the look Coty shot him.

The Fer Lierre's captain glanced back at Coty, and as Coty's attention returned to him a wolfish grin spread across his face. Even from this distance, an expression so savage was unmistakable. "We're not headed there to deal with the fairies," Sawyer sneered. "We're assigned reconnaissance. You _do_ know what that means, right?" Coty seemed fixed on the other captain for a moment, and when he failed to reply, Sawyer added, "But you should go. Your mother's calling."

Lucian's lips curled in the slightest frown, and he turned back towards the construction site.

"Before you go, Coty," Mina started. Out of the corner of his eyes, Lucian saw Mina kiss Coty somewhere near where her captain had struck him. "There, all better."

Coty made his way back to site while the Fer Lierre continued north. When he neared Lucian, he pawed at the nape of his neck. "Sorry, captain," he said. "Just ignore him."

"No, it's fine," Lucian replied. "But, you know, mother knows best."

Coty stared at his captain for a moment, his chest filled with humor he wrestled to contain. Lucian glanced to Coty, his smile stretching farther than it often did, and at that the younger knight burst into laughter. Lucian chuckled with him. When their mirth subsided, they fell silent. Coty grinned as he continued onward, nearer to the work in progress.

Lucian was about to follow when a voice cried from the direction of the lake. "Hey, Captain!"

* * *

><p>Valko tapped the back of his head against the stone wall. When he would leave Zane alone, the older elf often had Lord Nogueira to keep him company. But this time, Zane had left Valko alone to visit Lord Nogueira in their home. And unlike the brothers, Valko didn't have someone who would regularly join him. Sure, the evening blooms were beautiful when they lit the earth in such a way that it reflected the stars in the night sky, but it was only mid-afternoon. Sure, some days he had to fight gobpakkens, bubble froggers, and even the occasional crocogator. But most of his days guarding the city alone were days wasted staring blankly ahead. It was as enthralling to sit outside the city and do nothing as it was to sit inside the colony among its arrogant, sheltered pricks.<p>

"Hey Valko!" said a small voice.

Valko's gaze flicked to the maw in the stone wall. Bright blue eyes smiled back at him. There weren't a lot of light elves with eyes like that. The only two he could name were Gil and Faunus. He smiled back. Maybe that was what he liked about the small light elf. "Hi, Gil." He offered a flick of his wrist meant to resemble a wave, but otherwise didn't move from where he lounged.

"I just wanted to ask," Gil said, and he withdrew behind the notebook in his arms, "next time you go to the Forest Metropolis, can you take me with you?"

"You wanna visit the dark elves again?"

Gil's smile broadened as he ducked further behind the book and into the thick of his scarf. He nodded.

"We can go now," Valko said.

Gil glanced around the entrance, and then up towards the cliff face. His smile faltered, and he turned his gaze back on Valko. "But then who will guard the city?"

"Faunus would do it," the sentry replied. "She likes to sit up on the edge and look out over the region. If not her, we might be able to heckle Fan into it."

Gil nodded. "Okay."

Valko watched the small elf fly for the cliff face, and disappear above him. Whether or not the little one was successful in his quest, Valko stood and brushed himself off. If Gil were unsuccessful, maybe Valko would have luck on his side and rope the smaller elf into keeping him company at the entrance for a while. He leaned back against the wall, his arms folded, and his foot tapping idly at the ground. It was unusual to see the little one venture away from Cepheid of his own accord. Maybe his excursions outside the City of Flowers were helping him come out of his shell. Maybe he would learn to think and to be for himself and transcend the stagnant values of their kin.

"I found Lady Faunus," Gil announced, reappearing through the crack that served as ground-level entry to the City of Flowers.

Valko grinned in spite of himself as Lord Nogueira's second-in-command emerged from the crevice a step behind the small elf. "You'll let us go, right?" the sentry asked.

Faunus shook her head at him, but she was smiling. "I can't stop you, can I?"

Valko leaned towards her and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks mom."

* * *

><p>"You never told me how your trip to Radiata went," Valko said.<p>

Gil peered around his notebook at the sentry. They had flown over the Marais region and into the Nowem region to save time. They returned to ground level there, where Valko took to walking while Gil floated along. They weren't far from the entrance of the Forest Metropolis. When Valko returned the glance, Gil turned his gaze to the ground.

"Promise you won't tell?" the small elf murmured.

Valko stopped and turned fully to Gil. "Tell what?" he asked. As the words escaped him, he snapped his jaws shut for a moment before he tried anew. "Gil, what happened?"

"Promise me you won't tell Lord Cepheid," Gil insisted.

Valko shook his head. "When do I ever talk to Cepheid?"

Gil seemed to study him for a moment. They were only a few yards from the entrance, and from here it was easy to see if anyone else was nearby. Still, Gil kept his voice low as he continued. "One of the humans, he..." He glanced over his shoulder, and over Valko's, too, as if someone with a keen eye and loose lips might have been lurking there. Rather than finish the thought, Gil tucked his notebook into his pack to free his hands, and worked loose the thick of his scarf.

Valko bent near to get a look at what Gil had exposed. There were marks, not the black of fresh bruises, but the yellowed splotches of ones well on the mend. Valko stepped closer to get a better look, and Gil flinched. The smaller elf pulled his scarf over the marks again before Valko could make out their shape.

"When did this happen?" the sentry asked.

Gil bit his lips together. But even so when Valko gripped his shoulders the little one squeaked.

"This isn't from last week with the dark elves," Valko said. "They'd still be dark."

"He was a captain," Gil murmured, ducking his head so Valko's eyes couldn't meet his, "in the castle, when I was in Radiata with Lord Nogueira. I saw him again when you left me with the band."

Valko rubbed at Gil's shoulders. "He didn't hurt you again, did he?"

Gil shook his head. "No, but he tried to steal my poems."

"Not all humans are like that," Valko said.

"I know."

Valko withdrew his hands from the smaller elf's shoulders and sighed. Gil glanced back up at the sentry, possibly searching for why he had withdrawn. Valko was grateful not to find a trace of tears gleaming in the smaller elf's eyes. "I'm sorry that it happened, Gil," he said. "If you really don't want anyone to know, your secret is safe with me."

Still close enough to the sentry to do it, Gil reached forward and pulled Valko into a hug. Before Valko could return it, the smaller elf had released him and dashed for the entrance of the Forest Metropolis.

Valko followed Gil inside. Before heading up to the second floor where he could already hear Clay and Rad playing, Valko went into the cellar to swipe a bottle of wine. He fingered its seal as he made his way up to the main floor and around to the second. The drummer's eyes flicked to his, but didn't linger. The guitarist grinned broadly at the sight of him. Valko smirked in reply. It felt good to get away from the City of Flowers again, and there was no better place to be than in the company of dark elves. Hollace was sitting beside Clay, and Gil stood near him, but the girls were nowhere to be found. Valko sat cross-legged across from the band. He set the bottle down before himself, but for the moment left it unopened.

The small dark elf over which Gil stood had a leaf-bound notebook similar to Gil's open in his arms, and he filled the page with marks Valko couldn't see. If he wasn't writing lyrics, he was tracking the notes the other two played. Although Valko knew it couldn't be true, it seemed at times as if the trio never stopped making music together. Their passion was invigorating, enveloping. He could get lost in it forever.

Before Gil could sit, the small dark elf stood. "You write, yeah?"

Gil nodded.

Hollace snapped his notebook shut, the graphite with which he wrote not prone to seeping through pages the same way ink did. He examined the cover of the notebook for a moment before glancing sidelong at the small light elf. "Could you help me with some lyrics?"

"Sure," Gil said.

Hollace waved Gil to follow, and just like that, they disappeared down the hall and into the band's room. Valko grinned as they went. In spite of Gil's trouble in Radiata, some good had come of the experience.

"Good evening, boys" came a voice behind him.

The humor drained from the sentry's expression. He made no effort to turn and look to the other figure, even as the band stopped playing.

"Lord Cepheid," the drummer said, "is everything well?"

"Fine," Cepheid assured, though it sounded hollow to the sentry.

Valko drew his arms closer as the dragon took a seat beside him. Often when the company gathered here on the second floor, sitting cross-legged as Valko was, their knees would be touching. There were a few inches between him and the dragon. Even so, he would have moved if the dark elf elder, Vesper, hadn't claimed the space on his other side. He crossed his arms and stared blankly at a spot between Clay and Rad. The conversation continued without him as he went on hearing without listening.

"Valko!"

He yelped as a pair of arms came around his shoulders and yanked him back into reality. He wasn't sure how long he had tuned out the chatter around him, but when he glanced over his shoulder he found Samara beaming down at him.

"Guess where we were."

The jewelry-loving elf continued to kneel behind him as her redheaded friend claimed a spot against the wall beside Clay. Samara's arms stayed as they were on Valko's shoulders, and her chin rested on the top of his head.

"I dunno," he mumbled. "Where were you?"

"Visiting Lucian and Coty and Emilia," she chirped. "They're in the Cuatour region. They'll be there for a while." She gave him a light squeeze. "You should come with us next time."

"I don't think Coty likes me much," he sighed.

"He's the one inviting you," Samara giggled. "He was disappointed when he found out you ditched us last week."

"Gil should come, too," Ledert added.

The dragon shook his head. "I don't want him visiting that site."

"You shelter him too much," Valko huffed.

The dragon glanced to Valko. "You never should have left him alone."

"I didn't leave him alone," the sentry rebutted, and gestured broadly to the band, "he was with them."

"This is a time of tension, Valko," Cepheid said. "They have their own business to mind. Gil's young and vulnerable. He doesn't belong in human company, and neither do you."

"Then where do I belong, Cepheid? In your shadow?"

The sentry collected the wine bottle on the floor before him and pulled Samara's arms from his person. He had shifted one of his legs beneath him to stand when the dragon grabbed him by the arm and held him down.

"You and I need to talk." The dragon's glance had become a stare.

The sentry shrank back and tested the grip on his arm. He huffed when Cepheid held firmly. He glared at the dragon. "I have nothing to say to you."

He stood anyway, jerking against the hold. Although the dragon didn't move, his grip, the slight pull of his hold, was just enough to resist the force Valko put against it. The sentry clawed at the dragon's grasp, to no avail.

"Sit down, Valko."

"Let go of me, murderer!"

The dragon's hold faltered, but his expression remained stoic. Valko stared wide-eyed, and staggered back. Samara was still there behind him, but had the sense to step aside. The dragon's fingers still ghosted around Valko's wrist. The scowl on the sentry's face had already been replaced by shock, though now he wasn't sure what to feel. There was no shame in honesty. But his breath hitched at the terrible truth, the last squeeze of his wrist before Cepheid released him. Without looking back, Valko dashed from the second floor and out of the Forest Metropolis.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

In the next chapter, Samara plays hard to get, Coty gets his hands on more elven wine, and we hear more about Valko's history with humans.


	9. Is He Really the Wind Dragon?

**Chapter Nine - Is He Really the Wind Dragon?  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Samara and Ledert strolled past the lake in the Cuatour region, again on their way to visit the construction site. Samara wasn't sure what the humans were building, or why they would need knights to oversee the work, but Coty had told them it was to protect the builders. The area was densely populated with wolves, so that wasn't too farfetched. She would have to accept that answer for now.<p>

"I know your beads are in there," Ledert said, "but what else have you got in that bag?"

Samara's eyes flicked from the redheaded elf, to the bulging pack beneath her arm. She giggled, and popped one of the buckles. Inside was a complete leaf cloth outfit.

"What's that for?"

"It's for Lucian," Samara explained. "I mean, have you seen what he wears under that armor?"

"Those white tights?"

"Those awful puff shorts and that tacky top?"

The girls giggled.

When their laughter settled, Ledert asked, "But isn't that Clay's vest?"

Samara nodded.

"He's already mad."

"He's always mad."

The construction site soon came into view. There were shacks dotting the valley, and they looked about as big as Valko and Gil defined the light elves' grass huts. Last time the girls had come, there wasn't much inside those buildings. Mats for the workers to lie on, and storage space for their bread. It looked like a campsite. With the lake so close, that seemed plausible. Between the small buildings, though, the humans were clearing space, leveling the ground and smoothing the mountain faces on both sides. They had bricks and boulders piled on the far end.

Samara thought little of it as they continued. They were close enough to holler to the knights now. She could see Lucian and Coty lending the builders a hand with their work, and smiled at the sight of Lucian's taller, trimmer figure alongside the stocky men. He was also the only one with hair that fell past his butt. Coty didn't look quite as silly with his deeper skin tone, and thicker build. He wasn't nearly as heavy with muscle as the builders were, who looked less like humans and more like orcs, but his stomach was still sculpted in a way that Lucian's was not. Emilia was still fully armored, and might have looked as though she was standing guard if she hadn't been eyeing the men. Samara grinned.

"Hey!" Ledert called. One of her arms flailed above her head in a gesture vaguely resembling a wave.

Samara cupped her hands around her mouth. "We're back!"

Emilia waved with both hands, and made a cursory glance before strolling to the girls. Coty stopped before Lucian did and after brushing renegade tendrils of hair from his face he saluted in turn. Lucian huffed before he glanced back. The closer the girls got to them, the easier it was to see the smile on Lucian's face. It was always so small. Samara frowned. Someday, she would see that smile stretch across his face. He would be in the highest spirits, and mean it with all his heart. For now, though, she was simply happy to see him.

Coty beamed at them as he came running past Emilia and straight for the girls. Lucian strolled after him. Coty had barely slowed when he threw his arms around Ledert and squeezed her in embrace.

"Ew!" the redhead squeaked, staggering back several steps. "You're all sweaty!" She shoved at the knight, and after some giggles and squirming Coty released her.

Emilia tried to frown and mirror Ledert's disgust, but she couldn't turn down the grin in her cheeks.

Lucian held out his arms to give Samara a hug as Coty had Ledert. Before he could wrap them around her, however, Samara shoved the leaf clothes at him instead.

"You," she commanded, "get changed."

Lucian peered at the outfit cradled in his arms, the smile having vanished from his features.

Coty sniggered.

Emilia made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on, Captain."

Lucian sighed. The men were already out of their armor, already only half-dressed. And although they were warm from work, they would soon be chilled by the autumn air and they would have to get dressed. He huffed at the bundle of leaf clothes, and trudged into one of the small shacks to do as Samara bid.

"You don't like the puff pants, either?" Coty asked.

Samara giggled and shook her head.

"Hey!" Ledert shouted, "you came!"

The rest of them looked in the direction Ledert had turned. There was nothing directly in front of them, but in the distance and fast approaching were two pairs of light elf wings. The front figure waved, while the one in the back clutched the pack slung over his shoulder.

"Gil!" the redhead called. "Valko!"

It was still a minute more before the elves landed. The older light elf set his feet down a few yards still from where they stood. He held his hand back to Gil, who still floated a foot off the ground behind him, and Gil pulled a bottle from his pack. Valko curled his fingers around the neck of the bottle as they closed the remaining distance between them, and the dark elves and Coty.

Coty grinned at the sight of it. "Always in the party spirit, eh?"

Valko laughed. "I figured it owed it to you," he said. "But drink it slowly this time."

The grin on the young knight's cheeks settled into an awkward smile as the bottom of the bottle came into the palm of his hand. The girls were laughing.

"Don't look at me like that," Valko teased, "it's only one bottle."

"I thought Lord Cepheid wanted you to stay away from here," Ledert said.

The small elf behind Valko turned from pale to white. "We're not supposed to be here?"

Valko pressed his lips together to tame the grin upon them. His tongue poked between them to wet them before he put on a smile and turned around to face the Gil. "Cepheid just wants you to be safe," he said, and his smile stretched a little thinner. "You can trust them, can't you?"

"He was mad about last time," Gil murmured.

"We're not in Radiata, Gil," the sentry insisted. "They're nice people. And this time I won't leave without you."

"You're sure it's okay?"

"It's fine," Valko insisted. "We're in good hands here."

They stared at each other for a moment. Gil looked back towards the elf region. He rubbed at his arm, and for a moment was regaining altitude.

"Gil," Coty said, "See the guys behind us?" He gestured to the men working around the valley. "Half of them can't read, and the other half don't care. So the only one you'll have to worry about is her." He grinned at Ledert, and the redheaded dark elf's cheeks bunched in a scowl right back at him.

Gil covered his mouth as he chuckled at the remark. He hesitated there a moment longer before settling only inches from the ground.

"Aw, Gil," Valko whined.

"What?" the small elf asked. As quickly as it had come, the humor was wiped from his features.

"You gotta walk."

The small elf peered at the ground, and then to the rest of the company. Samara was with them as they all stared right back at him. His toes tentatively touched the ground, and soon he, too, was standing flat-footed like everyone else.

As the chatter subsided, Samara could hear the footsteps approaching. Lucian had returned from changing into the leaf clothes, and she turned to get a look at him. The vest was the right length, the stockings came up high enough to disappear beneath the shorts, and as she knew it would, the ensemble went together well. But, she thought with a huff, she should have left the turtleneck at home.

"C'mon, guys!" she cheered, again stepping around Lucian's attempt to give her a hug, and leaving him at the back of the pack. "Let's hang out by the lake."

* * *

><p>Coty reached up at the stars. The cork was still in the wine bottle, and he wasn't sure he dared to pop it yet. As per captain's orders, he was not to open it until the construction had stopped for the night. And it recently had, but the bottle was out of reach and he didn't want to get up to fetch it. The sentry who had given it to him was still with them, as was the little poet. But where Valko was within arm's reach of Coty, Gil was still up by the lake with Lucian and the girls.<p>

The elf sat cross-legged, his elbows on his knees and his chin on his knuckles. He seemed to be staring at a spot on the ground in front of him, and he was much better than Coty was at keeping his attention fixed.

"Hey, Valko?" he asked. "Why weren't you and Gil supposed to come?"

"Cepheid would do anything to preserve Gil's innocence."

Coty had heard the name before. He let his hand fall to his chin. "Who's Cepheid?"

"One of us," the sentry replied.

Coty turned his head from the sky to the sentry beside him. "Is he really the wind dragon?"

Valko's attention snapped to Coty. "Where did you hear that?"

"Sawyer and Mina figured it from a poem Gil wrote about him," the knight said.

"He'll be another one of Cepheid's pets, like Zane, if he doesn't open his eyes and see the world for himself."

"That's why you brought him?"

"Humans aren't the monsters we make them out to be," the sentry sighed. "But the older we get, the more firm we are in our beliefs. Most light elves are sheltered for so long, they know no other truth. Even when they see it, they're reluctant to believe it."

"So why are you different?"

The sentry drew his knees close and rested his chin on them instead. "I was in love with a human."

"Really? Was she hot?"

Valko chuckled. "She was kinda like you."

Coty shoved himself back into a seated position, and glared at the elf, at which Valko laughed harder.

"Well," he sniggered, "she was shorter and had squishier abs." Coty did his best to bore holes into the sentry until Valko added, "But it wasn't what she looked like. She had the same sincerity and free spirit." The sentry was smiling as he reminisced.

Coty looked away, rubbing at the back of his neck. "How did that work out for you?"

"Not so well," Valko admitted. "Have you heard the story of the Algandars Castle?"

"The captain's favorite fairy tale?" Coty asked. "About the light elf king and his human queen?"

"Yeah, that." The sentry shrugged, but his shoulders seemed only to tense. His smile faded as he continued. "The birth of the dark elves, and of the algandars disease," he said. "When she heard of what damage it could do for us to be together, she broke up with me."

"Would getting her pregnant really kill you?"

Valko nodded. "If the story's true."

"Then if you're gonna love a human," Coty said, "you'd have to love a man."

Valko turned fully to Coty.

The knight wasn't sure how to read the sentry's grave expression, and Valko raised his arm as if to smack him, so he added in his defense, "It was just a joke."

Rather than crack across his cheek, the elf's hand gripped the back of Coty's neck and pulled their faces together. The way the knight leaned on his arms as he sat, the only way to hold back the invading pair of lips was to sit up and into the kiss. At least the elf minded his tongue. The sentry made no effort even to lick the lips he had claimed. And when he pulled away, he swiftly buried his face in his arms.

Coty gaped. He shivered at the chill that overtook him now that he and the sentry weren't so close to one another. There were a number of snide remarks he could make. Or he could respond with what seemed appropriate, disgust.

Valko's gaze hadn't flicked back to his.

The knight bit his lips together, and swallowed the pride that wished to react any way but this, and he shifted closer. He leaned against the elf, and put an arm around his shoulders. This near, he could hear a tremble riding on Valko's breaths.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's okay."

Coty wasn't sure what to do from there. He thought to change the subject, but when he opened his mouth to make the suggestion he could find nothing but questions about the free spirited woman and her squishy abs. He settled instead for silence, withdrew his arm from the sentry's shoulders, and leaned back once more. It wasn't long before Valko settled, and stared into the distance, and Coty assumed he had done the right thing.

Sitting so close to the light of Valko's wings dimmed the spackle of light above, but it didn't hide the wings of another light elf coming their way. She had four wings instead of two, like the other sentry and the light elf leader had.

"Who's that?" he asked.

Valko shrugged. The light elf in the sky was headed straight for them, and Coty stood to meet her eye to eye, but Valko didn't move.

"Lord Cepheid was right," the elf said as her feet touched the ground. She crouched in front of Valko, her eyes searching his. She didn't pay Coty any mind. "What are you doing here?"

The sentry's gaze flicked to Coty's. "What does it look like?"

The other light elf cupped Valko's cheek in her palm.

"I'm not going back," he snapped.

"I'm sorry, Valko," she said. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

"No."

The four-winged light elf sighed. She leaned forward, her head coming to rest against the sentry's where she could murmur into his ear. Coty shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Her fingers clutched Valko's face, and her lips pursed as if she had more she wished to say. Coty was wrong. She was paying the knight a lot more mind than she seemed to be.

"You're needed."

"For what?" Valko huffed. "To watch the gobpakkens?"

"No, it's..." she murmured. She looked to Coty, and then to the ground beside the sentry.

Coty rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Valko said. "Whatever you have to say, Faunus, you can say it in front of him."

The other light elf's knees hit the ground, and she wrapped her arms around the sentry. Her mouth was as near as it could get to his ear. "There's been suspicious activity around the City of Flowers," she said. The night was too still to cover her voice, and Coty heard every word as she continued. "There was an abandoned campsite found not far from the entrance, and another deeper in the marsh. If it was Zane, I wouldn't come for you, Valko, but Lord Nogueira himself insists that you return to the city."

"What about Gil?" Valko said.

Appropriately, Coty could see the young poet's wings behind the silhouettes of Lucian and the girls returning to them from the lake. He could hear them giggling until Gil stepped around them and ran ahead. He must have noticed the woman.

Gil slowed as he reached Coty and the other light elves.

"Lady Faunus," he murmured. The four-winged elf withdrew her arms from Valko's shoulders, and turned to look at Gil, and Gil stared back. "Are we in trouble?"

Faunus shook her head.

A tiny smile curled at the corner of Gil's lips. "In that case, can I go to the Forest Metropolis with them?" He gestured to the girls.

Faunus nodded, and Gil's smile spread.

"Valko, are you coming, too?" the poet asked.

The sentry shook his head, and as quickly as the small elf's smile had grown, it disappeared altogether.

"Why not?"

Valko picked himself up off the ground and brushed off the back of his slacks. "Sorry, Gil," he said, "I'm needed in the City of Flowers."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Maybe Coty shouldn't be chill with that smooch, but POKER FACE is in his character and he totally brought it on himself. xD In the next chapter, Lucian discusses business matters with the general, and personal matters with the jeweler. ;D


	10. In Matters of the Heart

**Chapter Ten - In Matters of the Heart  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Lucian had returned to the castle, as he was required to do every other week to report progress on the construction. The brigade as a whole could not leave the site, but he trusted Coty to take care of things in his absence. Fort Ledanesis, as they called it, was well under way. The foundation was set, the cliff walls had been leveled, and the thick stone outer walls were up, and now construction progressed inside the fort. Besides frequent visits from the girls and Gil, and occasionally Valko, there were no complications. Since the knights weren't factored into the construction plans, but lending a hand where they could regardless, the site was graced with the privilege of being ahead of schedule.<p>

Lucian had already provided the commander-in-chief his report, and he was headed back down to his room, when he passed the general's open door. He glanced over as he passed, and found Lorant at her desk with her attention fixed on the papers before her. He didn't want to disturb her, and would have continued past, if his eyes hadn't fallen on the large rainbow crystal sitting on her desk. He paused, and stepped back. If he recalled correctly, the general had not one, but a whole collection of them. He wouldn't dare ask if she would part with one, but maybe she might have some direction for him so that he might find one himself. He hadn't been as keen on the jeweler's proposal when he had only known Samara for a week, but that week and many more had been and gone. The more time they spent together, the more he wished he had something to show her how much he appreciated her company.

"General?" he called.

Lorant looked up from her paperwork and peered in Lucian's direction. She smiled warmly and waved him over. Lucian stepped inside and stopped before her desk.

"Good afternoon," she said. "Will you be in town for a while?"

"Just for a few hours, General," he replied.

"This conversation doesn't have to be formal, Lucian," she chuckled. "But if you would like it to be, there's a matter of business we never did discuss."

Lucian frowned. "And what's that?"

Lorant glanced to her paperwork. She set her quill aside, stood from her desk, and made her way around it to Lucian. She held out her hand to shake, and he did accept that but his frown only deepened. The general made her way to the entrance and closed her door before she made any effort to explain the gesture.

"It occurred to me the other day that I never properly thanked you," she said, "for your success with the light elves after the death of the earth dragon."

"Oh, no," Lucian said, "it was the mission we were assigned, and we did it to the best of our ability."

"Even so, no one expected such success," Lorant admitted. She moved back around her desk, and into her adjoined bedchambers. Lucian moved nearer to the door between the rooms, but did not enter the general's personal space as she continued, "You still see your dark elf friend from time to time, yes?"

Lucian smiled. "I know they shouldn't be hanging around, but she and Ledert visit us at the construction site every few days."

"And Gil and Valko," she added. "So their Lord Nogueira tells me."

"Yes."

Lorant rummaged through one of her drawers for a key, and Lucian watched as she removed a painting from the wall and revealed behind it a small open space in which sat a locked box. She didn't seem to mind that he was watching, proceeding to unlock the box and collect something from inside it.

"Here," she said. "But if she asks, you didn't get it from me."

When he didn't offer her his hand to accept what she had retrieved, she took it and held it palm-up for him, and dropped the item into it. His eyes flicked to hers, and then to the proffered crystal. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, but really, what was there to say? Rainbows danced around his hand as the crystal rolled in his palm. It looked larger than the one in the shop.

"Thank you, but I can't accept this."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lorant huffed. "You're unlikely to find one, and I'm aware of the offer Oriel made you."

"I don't have a thousand dagols to spend."

"But you have in your hand a crystal worth as much or more than the ring you already know fits her finger."

Lucian opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. He looked again at the crystal Lorant had handed him. "You're sure it's all right?"

"It's a gift she'll treasure," the general said. "And it's better for beautiful things such as these to be enjoyed rather than sit in a lockbox for the rest of time."

Lucian nodded. Samara certainly would treasure it. "Are you busy?"

"Not especially," the general admitted.

"Would you come with me to the shop for the exchange?"

Lorant smiled. "I would love to."

She pulled the door between her bedchambers and office shut, and together they stepped out.

* * *

><p>"Aha," the strange shopkeeper said. "I knew you would return."<p>

Lucian offered the man only half a smile, but nodded.

"And you've brought the lady general with you," he said. "I assume you've found a crystal."

Lucian rolled the very thing in the palm of his hand, and watched again as rainbows danced upon his skin. Although he knew little of precious gems, their qualities, their differences, their values, he could understand why the rainbow crystal would be so much more precious and sought after than the other stones.

"Let me see it," Oriel commanded.

When Lucian's gaze turned from the stone to the jeweler, he found that now the man wore a strange, extended lens over his bulky goggles. He relinquished the gem to the man, and the man held it close to the lens to study it.

"And the cost of the band?"

"He won't be paying for a band," Lorant said. "You already have a ring with a rainbow crystal set inside it."

"Well, yes," the jeweler said, "but—"

"But nothing," the general insisted. "The stone you hold is of greater value than the ring in that display."

"Very well," Oriel sighed, and his eyes flicked to Lucian's, "although I believe your sweetheart would delight more in this stone than in that one."

"My sweetheart?" Lucian said.

"Your girlfriend," Oriel repeated, "the dark elf. It's for her, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," Lucian said, "but she's not my sweetheart."

"Perhaps she should be."

Lucian gaped. "She's much too young for me."

"Nonsense." The man removed the lens and turned his boxy gaze back upon Lucian. Although it was difficult to tell behind those goggles, it seemed as though the man was staring hard into Lucian's eyes. "In matters of the heart," he stated, "age, sex, or nationality make no difference."

Lucian pressed his lips together.

"It shouldn't take more than a week to put a band on it," the man said, his attention redirecting to the crystal in his grasp. He stepped around the counter and headed towards a room in the back. "Come back then."

"But—"

"Never mind the cost," Oriel sighed. "This is the better stone. This is the one you were given for her—" The jeweler shot Lorant a knowing glance as he opened the door to the back room. "—so this is the one she shall have."

* * *

><p>The Forest Metropolis was becoming a second home to Gil. Since he had begun to tag along with Ledert and Samara in their visits to the Cuatour region, he had spent more nights with them than he had in the City of Flowers with Lord Cepheid. To Gil's surprise, Cepheid seemed to prefer it that way. The dragon was no longer encouraging him to return to the elf region, although he continued to be suspicious of the humans and insisted at every chance he got that Gil not visit the fort. Valko would still visit, too, although since the night that Faunus had come to collect him, his visits were shorter and much less frequent.<p>

Gil gnawed on the end of his quill. The feather was beginning to look ragged from his chewing, and soon he would need a new one. He pulled it from his lips, and turned his attention instead to the dark elf beside him. The band was out somewhere in the Nowem region, Samara had gone to bed early, and Ledert had fallen asleep beside him. More accurately, her cheek had come to rest on his shoulder where they sat on the second floor. At least he wouldn't have to worry about her reading over his shoulder.

He dipped his quill and filled another page with verse. He was writing at a good clip, at ease with his quiet company, when Lady Vesper came upstairs.

"Gil," called not Vesper, but Lady Faunus. He smiled at the sight of her as she stepped around the dark elf elder. They both approached Gil and Ledert. "Is Valko here?"

Ledert stirred at the noise, maybe as much from it as from the shift in Gil's posture as he met the older elves' gazes. When the flower-wearing dark elf beside him no longer leaned against him, he shook his head.

"He's not in the City of Flowers," Faunus said, "or with the humans in the Cuatour region. They told me they last saw him with you, but that was days ago."

Gil's smile settled back into the attentive, but neutral look with which he regarded his notebook when he was writing. Faunus looked up and around, and then returned her gaze to Gil's before at last her attention came to rest on the floor. The way her arms were folded across her chest, she rubbed at each with the other.

"Have you seen him at all today?" she asked.

Gil shook his head. He drew his knees closer and bit down again on the end of his quill. "Why?"

"We haven't seen him since the last time you were both in the City of Flowers," she said. "We haven't seen evidence of humans around the elf region in a while. They never did bother us, but I just can't help feeling something's wrong."

Gil nodded. He let his chin rest on his chest, and his eyes on the pages wet with ink before him.

"It's not unusual for him to take off without speaking with Zane, or even Lord Nogueira, but even I know nothing of this."

"Is he still mad at Lord Cepheid?"

"He and Lord Cepheid haven't seen eye-to-eye in centuries, Gil," Faunus said, "but you're right. He has been colder lately, hasn't he?"

Gil flinched. Centuries. He was still so young he counted age by the year. He had seen more of the world in the months he had spent with the dark elves than he had in the rest of his life, and he was beginning to realize how little he knew about anything. Although he knew Valko would never address Lord Cepheid with the same formality that he did Lord Nogueira, it hadn't occurred to Gil just how deep that resentment ran until Valko's outburst here in the Forest Metropolis.

"Well," she sighed, "if you see him, let him know we're worried about him, all right?"

In spite of the wet ink, Gil closed the pages of his notebook. He set the cork in his inkpot, sure to depress it firmly into the mouth of the pot, and shook his head. The dark elf beside him seemed to understand, as she snared him in a quick hug before he told Faunus, "I'm coming home with you."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

I'm aware that there are significant shortcomings in the knights' behaviour through the fort's construction, and I hope I haven't slipped and called the fort "Helencia" anywhere. I gave it a different name for a reason. And I handed Lucian a lot in this chapter. I have no excuse for that. Feel free to give me heck, or speculate on goings on thus far, or even just say hi to let me know you're reading. I love reviews~

In the next chapter, we visit the graveyard of the elves where there's something worse than algandars lurking in the mire.


	11. I Know Why You're Here

**Chapter Eleven - I Know Why You're Here  
><strong>

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><p>Gil hadn't visited the Forest Metropolis in a while, almost a week, and Samara had grown impatient. Ledert didn't want to go to the human fort without Gil to keep her company while Samara hung out with Lucian. That was why Samara made her way through the Cuatour region alone. Without her fellow dark elf, it was a long, quiet walk. She had left late in the afternoon and now it was after dark. Thankfully, the face of the moon sufficiently lit the night. It didn't take long for her to see ahead of her whom she sought. Lucian wasn't all the way at the construction site. And he wasn't dressed the part of a knight, either. He wore the leaf clothes Samara had brought for him. She skipped into a quicker pace and raced to the lakeside where her captain sat.<p>

Lucian turned her way as she drew near, no doubt able to hear her footsteps. She dropped in front of him and threw her arms around his shoulders.

"Hello there," he greeted, unmoved by her momentum.

Samara leaned into him until he relinquished control and lay back on the grass. With his arms around her, and her head on his chest, she replied, "Hi, Captain."

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Gil's been staying in the City of Flowers," Samara said, "so Ledert didn't wanna come."

"And what about Valko?"

Samara frowned. She rolled to face skyward, and huffed. "Valko's missing."

"Missing?"

"We haven't seen him since last week," she said. "And neither have the light elves."

"Neither have we," Lucian added. "Do you think he's upset with us?"

Samara peered to him, to find him gazing at the stars as she had been. She glanced back to the sky. "For what?"

"This fort, Ledanesis," Lucian said, "it's a tower of defense—a wall between the races. He knows, and Coty says he's not happy about that."

Samara expression creased in a frown. "Is there going to be a war?"

"I hope not," he replied. Samara could feel Lucian's belly rise and fall in a slow, deep breath. He pulled himself back into a seated position, and gazed over the lake while she followed his lead. "I'd like to believe the races can live together in peace."

"Me too."

Putting the foul thought from her mind, Samara pulled her bag from over her shoulder. This time it was not thick with leaf cloth or weighted with the bulk of her bead box. She popped the buckles and withdrew the small silk pouch still carrying the beads she had first laced in the compliant captain's hair.

"Nothing elaborate tonight," Lucian said. Samara peered up from the pouch, her head tucked between her shoulders as if he was scolding her, at which Lucian offered her a smile. "I'm sorry. I know you put a lot of effort into it, and it's nice to get all that hair out of the way, but I don't feel up to unraveling it all later."

Samara nodded, and smiled in turn. She threaded beads into a few smaller braids, a measured number of them on either side. For a while, as she wove the dark strands together, Lucian continued simply to stare over the lake. The Forest Metropolis was quiet, the walk was quiet, and even now Samara couldn't escape that silence. Minding his wishes, and wanting to come up with a game or something to fill that void, Samara collected all of the captain's hair in her hands, parted it, and for the first time pulled all of it together into a single mass. Her strings weren't made to hold so much at once, however, so to further support the bind inches from the end, she pulled off one of her bracelets and wrapped it around the base of the braid.

She rolled forward, onto her knees, and crawled around to face the captain. His eyes only briefly flicked to hers, and he wasn't smiling anymore. She leaned closer. With the ends of his hair still in hand, she held the braid up before Lucian's eyes. His focus shifted from the distance to his hair, and then fully to her.

Samara grinned and pointed to the bracelet securing the end. "It can stay there for now," she said, and then she held the braid aside to meet him eye-to-eye, "but I want it back later."

"All right," he chuckled. For that moment he was smiling again, but it seemed as though tonight that smile just wouldn't last.

Samara laid the end of the braid in the grass around them, posing it around Lucian. In the corner of her eyes, she could see him looking out again. The glow of the moonlight on his skin seemed even more to trace the shape of his features, and deepen the flat, dark line where his lips met. The elf settled beside Lucian, doing her best not to be dismayed by the captain's inattentive disposition. She curled her arms around his and rested her head on his shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Samara," he said, and she pressed her lips back together again, "do you know if it's true, that fairy tale about the elf king and his human queen?"

"I like to think it is," she replied.

"Do you believe, then, that love transcends race?"

"Valko is proof that it does," she stated. "Race, gender, age... As long as it's true, love transcends everything."

Lucian turned his gaze from the lake to Samara. She smiled up at him and nuzzled into his collar. His lips curled upwards in response, but his expression still didn't last.

Samara frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Samara..." Lucian murmured. He wouldn't let his eyes meet hers, but he asked, "Would you give me your hand for a moment?"

She uncoiled her arms from around his, but rather than give him her hand, she got up and knelt astride his lap. "Why?" She palmed his cheeks, and squished them together until he smiled again, and she smiled back.

Lucian pulled one of Samara's hands from his face, and as long as he continued to smile, she didn't resist.

His fingers moved without watching his actions. There was a sparkle in his eyes, and though it might have been nothing more than a glint of moonlight it made them look like sapphires. She pressed her forehead against his and searched those eyes. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could read his mind.

She felt a chill on her finger, around her finger. The smile fell from her lips. She pulled her other hand from his cheek, to grope at the strange feeling. Her mouth hung open when she realized what it was. She sat back and stared at the band. There was a stone on it almost as thick as the finger it was wrapped around. Although it wasn't as clear as it could have been with her back to the moonlight and projecting a shadow on all that lay before her, that ring still seemed to collect what little light it could and cast colors into her shadow. A rainbow crystal, and it wasn't the one from the shop. That one was smaller. That one didn't cast as many colors. This one, no doubt, was worth more.

She couldn't move. She could feel her hands begin to sweat, her cheeks were flush, and still she could do little more than paw at the band on her finger.

"Samara?"

Her eyes flicked to his, and in the brief respite from her shock, she pulled her groping fingers from the ring and smacked him across the face.

"How could you?" she cried. "Lucian, you can't afford this!"

Still, as if he would realize it was true and try to reclaim the piece, she curled into herself, and into him. Her fingers closed around that ring sat, and she cupped that hand with the other. With her head tucked beneath Lucian's chin, and the burning feeling between their bodies growing, she could also feel the tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

Lucian put his arms around her, his chin comfortably nesting where it had come to rest atop her head. "It's all right," he assured. "You're worth it."

* * *

><p>Valko tilted his head back and let his fingers trace the bark-like surface against which he leaned. There were several of the tree-like forms around, some of them as taller than Lord Nogueira, and others shorter even than Gil. Though most of them lined the banks, some were also half-immersed and almost completely submerged in the mire. He wondered how many had been swallowed completely in its depths through the centuries. They still glowed faintly from within, the bodies of light elves of the past immortalized and petrified in these cocoons. Like them, the mire had a sort of sentience. At times, as air pockets slithered to the surface and lingered there in the stew of mud and soggy vegetation, the mire seemed alive.<p>

One of the bubbles popped, and Valko's eyes flicked to where it had been. As the moments passed, and the contents of that bubble wafted through the open wild around him, he got a whiff of the repugnant stench of the bottom of the mire. With such a smell ever-ready to be released and with land on which, in many places, they could not stand, it was little wonder why few of his kin ever came here. He pressed his palm flat to the barky form behind him, one of the natural caskets, and pulled himself to his feet.

An arrow cut into the casket. Valko's eyes flicked to it, where it had caught on his sleeve, and then to where it had come from. He threw his free arm out, and in his hand he formed a dagger of ice to cut through the second arrow coming his way.

"Show yourself!" he called.

"Captain, no!" hissed a voice deeper in the mire.

He could hear the sloshing of boots regardless, and in spite of the caution a dark-haired human stepped out from behind more of the tree-like caskets. He had twin sheaths strapped to his belt, but had not drawn his blades. Behind his wild hair, he scowled at the sentry. Now that his presence had been revealed, the human continued to close the distance between he and Valko. There was still plenty of room between them, but Valko was sure now that if he projected his magic he could hit his mark—right in the center of the tree emblazoned on the man's armor.

"You shouldn't be here," he said.

The human smirked, and his eyes flicked about their surroundings. "What is this place?"

"This is the graveyard of the elves," Valko replied, though admittedly they were deeper in the Marais region than even many dying elves dared to venture. He pulled the arrow from his sleeve and cast it into the mire.

The human peered at one of the green, glowing caskets. "This is a tomb," he said, although it sounded more like a question. He stepped closer and investigated the form with a sort of wonder.

Another human stepped around him, a fair-skinned woman wearing similar armor, with the same silver and syrup brown crest, and with another arrow notched and targeting Valko. "Sawyer," she grumbled, "I can't cover you when you get in front of me like that."

"Sawyer?" Valko parroted. "You're the one who attacked Gil."

The wild-haired human turned his scowl back on the sentry. His eyes flicked then to the woman's, and she let the third arrow fly. Valko cut that one down, too, and scowled back at them.

"Why are you here?"

"I thought it was obvious," Sawyer replied. "Gathering intelligence, preparing for battle. War—it's all humans are good for, isn't it?"

Valko shook his head. Maybe that was how his kin would see it, he could already hear Zane say it, but he knew it wasn't true.

"The better question," the human continued, and he resumed closing the distance between him and the sentry, "is why are _you_ here?"

"This is the Marais region," Valko remarked. "This is my home, why wouldn't I—"

"I mean _here_," Sawyer said.

The man had drawn his blades, and Valko didn't have a chance to process what those words implied as the other lunged at him. Curiously, the man didn't lunge forward. Valko formed his blade of ice and parried the attack. His feet barely grazed the surface of the marsh as the human came at him. As he withdrew, he realized why the human moved about the way he did. Sawyer already seemed to know where in the mire he could stand without sinking into it. The human drew back. As he bobbed away from the sentry, another arrow came in their direction. Not quick enough to slash it, Valko sidled it. The twin blades came at him again, but as his back came against one of the barky caskets, he had nowhere to go.

One of the blades stopped so near, its tip clawed hungrily at Valko's throat. But the other was inert in the human's grasp. "This is the product of the algandars disease, isn't it?" the human said. His eyes flicked above Valko's, to the form against which he was pinned.

"Yes," the sentry replied.

"That's lethal to you, isn't it?" Sawyer asked. He drew back his idle blade, and drove it into the casket beside Valko's head. Valko didn't respond, he barely flinched at the captain's aggression, so Sawyer added, "It's the only thing that will kill you light elf bastards for good." He cocked his head to one side, and drew back an inch the sword he held against Valko's throat. "Right?"

"Yes," Valko acknowledged, "and it affects humans, too."

"It's not life-threatening to us," the human said, drawing his sword back even farther, "so I'm not worried about it."

He dislodged his other blade from the casket, a mucus-like sludge coating what Valko could see of it, and clasped it flat against the one he still carried. The tomb wasn't as comparable to a tree as the sentry had initially thought. With the threat somewhat subdued, Valko studied the human. He looked similar to how Gil had defined him in verse, although the young poet had certainly exaggerated the man's wolfish qualities. Valko could also see the chain hanging about the man's neck, which might have fallen from within his shirt while they fought. There were three egg-shaped stones on the chain, one of which was the one that Gil described as a glowing emerald. That crest on the man's armor, however, didn't seem right. Valko pressed his lips together, and his eyes flicked back to the human's.

"Even so, it's possible that it's still active here," the human mulled. "Which means either you're an idiot, or you _want_ to die."

The sentry murmured, more to himself than to his assailants, "I know why you're here."

"Is that so?"

"You're here for Lord Cepheid," Valko said.

"That's right," the human chuckled, "we're here for your precious Lord Cepheid."

Valko made to speak again, but words would not form from them as he realized what he had said. He hadn't noticed the human step nearer until their faces were only inches apart. The human's gaze was fixed on his, a crooked grin spreading on his cheeks, and a hand near the hole he had punctured in the casket.

"How does that make you feel?" he taunted. "To know Parsec, Kelvin, and even your precious Cepheid will die at my hands as Baade did?"

The human's sneering voice, and how quickly, easily he could raise his blades and cut through the sentry left goose bumps on Valko's arms. It was nothing but a game. Through the eyes of the human before him, he was already dead.

"Killing them won't stop the prophecy."

Sawyer's nostrils flared as he brought the tips of his blades back up beneath Valko's jaw, and Gil's written words at once seemed truer than they had before. The man's breaths were hot on the sentry's skin, and Valko flinched as the human hissed, "What?"

"It's not enough," the sentry said. "When the time of imbalance comes, and the silver dragon is awakened, the element dragons will be reborn."

"Silver dragon?"

Valko pressed himself against the casket, tipping his head back as far as he could manage, as that blade again grazed his throat.

"There are _more_ dragons?"

"The twin dragons," Valko replied. "Aphelion and Quasar."

"Just two?"

Valko bit his lips together and rolled his gaze from the menace before him. He had already said too much. But the blades were falling again.

The human grabbed Valko's face, his hand slimy from the sludge that dribbled from the casket. The way he squeezed Valko's cheeks, the elf's jaw was forced open. The sentry raised his arms in his defense as the human's face lunged at his. It wasn't just their lips that came together. The human's tongue flicked into Valko's mouth and carried on it the bittersweet, grassy flavor of the casket fluid. Valko shuddered as it occurred to him what the human expected of him. But he couldn't stop the buildup of saliva, and before long had reflexively swallowed.

Sawyer pulled back, and licked at the grassy fluid on his lips. "What do you think," he asked, "is that enough to infect us?"

Valko wiped the slime from his face on the back of his sleeve. For the number of times he had been here before, without incident, he didn't believe it was so. Unless something in the mire preserved it, the disease here had long since been neutralized. Algandars wasn't nearly as easy to contract as the human made it out to be.

"It'll have to be enough," the human said nonetheless, and the smirk returned to his lips, "because I'd have to be mad to take on even more of those beasts." The man schooled the smirk from his lips, and wiped the slime from his blade. "Now if you wanna live long enough to tell your little friends what's going on here, then tell me everything there is to know about these twin dragons."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

A menace willing to exploit algandars is worse than the disease itself, right? And d'aww, Valko, does this mean you seekritly love Lord Cepheid? Unlikely. The worst part of this chapter was taming the mess of fluffy CHEESE between Lucian and Samara. Before edits, Lucian blatantly asked her out. (I hope I've implied well enough that he still does, it just got way too corny to keep in the scene.) And of course nothing says "I love you, too" better than SMACK IN THE FACE.

In the next chapter, it rains mud, and someone has some harsh words to say about Gil.


	12. Good Riddance

**Chapter Twelve - Good Riddance  
><strong>

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><p>The light of evening blooms filled the assembly hall. Gil stood beneath Lord Cepheid's arm in the company of the dragon and the elf lords. The lords all hung their heads. Gil peered up at them as they thought long and hard on the sentry's whereabouts.<p>

"Where else could he be?" Lady Faunus sighed.

Gil bit his lips together. If he had spent more time with Valko, maybe the sentry would not have had reason to run away.

Lord Nogueira shook his head. "Is there anywhere we haven't looked?" He peered at Zane. "Brother, you spent the most time with him. You knew him well, didn't you?"

"He loved humans," Zane said, "there really isn't any more to him than that."

"He knows," Lord Cepheid stated.

"Knows what?"

"The humans are seeking us—Parsec, Kelvin, and I," the dragon said. "They're accelerating their fate. They're bringing about the imbalance, destroying the cosmic order. He knows that, and he knows what we must do to restore the order."

"Does he love humans so much?" Nogueira asked. He frowned "Would he really rather that the day never comes to pass?"

Zane crossed his arms and scowled at Faunus. "Would he really rather that we let those mongrels run rampant, exhaust the land's resources, and spread the algandars disease?"

"There," Nogueira said. "Algandars. Could he have gone to the castle of the king of old?"

"No," Faunus said. "At first, when he disappeared from the City of Flowers, he still visited the Forest Metropolis and the human battlement. He can't have gone so far."

"I know where he is," Lord Cepheid said.

Gil peered up at the dragon. "Where?"

Lord Cepheid set his hand on Gil's head and ruffled the young elf's hair. "Somewhere you should never go." The dragon looked to the other faces around the room, and sighed. "I'll talk to him. I doubt he'll return, but there's no harm in leaving him to live in the Forest Metropolis, or even with the humans he cherishes so much."

"Good riddance," Zane muttered.

Gil gaped, and was grateful to see both similar shock in Lady Faunus and the scowl Lord Nogueira directed to his brother. Lord Cepheid shook his head, and stepped out of the assembly hall. Gil scrambled after him.

"I wanna come!" he said.

"I can't let you," the dragon replied.

"But Valko—"

"I'll let you know what he chooses to do when I return, seedling," he insisted, "but I need you to stay here."

"Is it that dangerous?"

Lord Cepheid nodded. "More dangerous than crocogators."

The dragon was slowly pulling away from the ground beneath their feet. Gil stared up at Lord Cepheid with his doe eyes, and slowly lifted himself from the ground after the dragon. Cepheid pressed his lips together for a moment, and hesitated there. He sighed, and Gil's eyes came alight. He was relinquishing, it seemed. The dragon cupped Gil's cheek in his palm, bending over him and kissing his forehead.

"Stay," he insisted, and the light in Gil's eyes faded, "promise me that."

Gil frowned, and continued to stare, but slowly he set his feet back on the ground. Cepheid continued to watch the small poet as he headed north. Gil waited, and watched the dragon back. Before long, Lord Cepheid had turned his back on the City of Flowers, and sped in the direction they hoped to find Valko. When the dragon was almost out of sight, Gil glanced around the path, and back towards the assembly hut. He could hear Lord Nogueira reprimanding Zane for the rude remark, and Lady Faunus was more invested in the conversation than in Gil's actions. No one was paying him any mind. And while crocogators were dangerous, they couldn't fly—and if they couldn't fly, they were no danger to little elves. Gil sped after the dragon.

The Marais region looked as amazing as it always did from a bird's eye view. The evening blooms lit the ground to match the stars in the sky above. He had spent so much time in the Nowem region lately, and he hadn't indulged in the view in so long, it was even more beautiful than he remembered it. But if he was going to catch up to the dragon—or at least not fall too far behind—he didn't have the time to admire the view. The deeper into the northern reaches of the Marais region they flew, the fewer evening blooms he saw below. There were more shrubs, more trees, and land saturated with water. It was all mud brokenly reflecting the light of the moon.

When he looked up from the muck below, Gil found that the dragon had slowed. He was beginning to search the area. Gil descended between the treetops. He couldn't see as well from there, but Cepheid was less likely to see him, too. He crept closer to the dragon, and watched the ground below for signs of what ill made the area more dangerous than crocogators. Even if it couldn't fly, it might be able to climb. Or maybe it could fly, and that's why it was dangerous. Gil shuddered. Maybe following Cepheid wasn't such a great idea. It was too late to turn back now, so floating up again from the trees so that the dragon might see him were he in danger, Gil made his way to where Cepheid was skimming the mire below.

Before Gil had even reached the dragon, Cepheid disappeared into the boughs. Gil stopped and stared after where the dragon had been. Without his pack over his shoulder, he gripped at the end of his scarf instead and proceeded to the area that looked the most like where Cepheid had gone. He glanced back in the direction from which he thought they had come, but they were too far to see the flower light in the city. He wasn't sure which way was home. And if the danger was down there, somewhere in the mire...

The poet took a deep breath, and descended between the boughs. He caught a glimpse of Cepheid's wings ahead, and floated just beneath the lowest hanging bows in the direction the dragon searched. He was still well above the ground, and could see any threat that might have been down there, but it was harder to see what might have been above him. There were bulbous green forms dotting the area. They had a faint, eerie glow coming from within them. Gil reached out, extending his arm as far as it would go to keep as much distance between the form and his body as he could, and he touched one of them. Nothing happened, so he inched nearer and pressed the full of his palm to it. They were bark-like, and lukewarm as if some life might lie deep inside.

When he realized he was caught up in his surroundings, Gil pulled away from the green, glowing form, and proceeded once more after Cepheid.

"Valko," the dragon said, "there you are."

Gil stopped and glanced around. He couldn't see the dragon or the sentry, but he could still see the light of their wings. He ducked behind one of those bark-like forms, and pressed himself against it. Surely they could see his wings, too, if they were to look in the right direction. Curiosity had him by the throat, however, and he wouldn't be satisfied simply to listen. He crept around the bulbous form and found a crack through which he could make out most of the pair ahead of him.

Valko looked to Lord Cepheid. He was curled around his knees, and his gaze quickly returned to the ground. Cepheid floated to Valko's side, and placed a hand on his shoulder, and Gil saw a twitch at the corners of the sentry's frown. Gil wasn't sure from this distance if the scuffs marking Valko's person were from having been around the mire for a while, or if the sentry had been attacked. He hoped it was the former.

"Of all places to be," the dragon sighed, "why here?"

"No one comes here," the sentry replied.

"Because it's forbidden," Cepheid stated, and Gil ducked his head between his shoulders as if he, too, had been scolded, "and you know why."

"What does it matter?"

"You risk your life wallowing in a place like this, Valko," the dragon said. "You could have gone anywhere—Goblin Haven, Borgandiazo, even Radiata if you wished. Why are you here?"

"You don't understand, Cepheid." Valko wiped his cheek on the back of his hand, and faced the dragon. "Everyone I love is mortal. They age and die, as we should. What good is it to me to live forever?"

"Then why now?" Lord Cepheid asked. "Those mortals are alive and well, aren't they?"

"What makes you think I'm even welcome in Radiata?" Valko grumbled. "The humans are preparing for war. They know that you, and Kelvin and Parsec, are coming for them. Sure, a few of the knights trust me, but the rest of them would sooner gut me. And of course, because he's tiny and adorable to a fault, Gil's not met with the same offense. And why should he be? He's the idiot who can't keep a firm enough grip on his notebook to save his life."

"Valko, that was—"

"Or yours."

Gil gasped. He gritted his teeth and glared at the sentry. Before him, Cepheid's hands had clenched into fists.

Valko stood up and brushed the dirt from his slacks, which surprisingly weren't caked in mud. Beneath him, Gil now saw, were some neatly arranged wooden planks. The sentry shook his head and looked away from the dragon—looking straight at Gil. The swell in his eyes was nothing to the way they widened, and how his jaw hung open when he saw little poet.

"You have to leave," Valko said. Cepheid put a hand on his shoulder, but Valko thrashed at the dragon's touch. His expression was already set in a scowl as he turned back. "Lord Cepheid, go!"

Gil's doe eyes fixed on the sentry. Maybe somewhere in that concern Valko didn't hate the dragons after all. The poet shifted around the glowing, bulbous form to join them. The moment he moved, an arrow embedded in the barky surface right before his eyes. He caught his breath and held it as he skimmed the mire for the source of the arrow. He hadn't turned more than halfway when a familiar monster's face grinned crookedly at him.

He was still more than arm's length away, but he could see the outline of Mina's face behind the captain and the glint of a second arrow notched and ready to fly. Sawyer glanced back to her as he drew a pair of slim swords from scabbards at his side, and his eyes flicked to Gil's. She let the second arrow fly. It grazed the tips of that monster's wild hair and with a heavy thunk it hit the bulbous form just inches above Gil's head. Gil darted around the form, flying above the mire and into Valko.

"Cepheid!" he cried. "Lord Cepheid!"

Valko threw the poet behind him, and stood between Gil and the monster of a captain. Sawyer lunged at the sentry, and Valko parried with a sword of ice. As they clashed against one another, it quickly became clear that the human was trying to get around Valko. He wasn't interested in the sentry at all. Mina loosed more arrows, but as if to defy the poet's fear that they would target the dragon, those arrows flew at Gil. Unlike the first two, they were aimed to strike, and the small elf hadn't even the time to clench his eyes shut before a powerful updraft threw the arrows above their mark.

The captain dropped to the ground and swept Valko's feet out from under him. Although with his wings, the sentry fall into the mire, he was still thrown back. And twice as far when the human crossed his blades and shoved against the sword of ice. The volley of arrows continued as the monster dove at Gil. Lord Cepheid stooped in front of the small elf, and a bright glow consumed him. As a whirlwind surrounded both the dragon and the small elf, scales covered his skin, his snout extended, and claws formed at the tips of his fingers. Gil gasped. He had never seen the dragon's true form before.

But ahead of them, the human threw his head back and laughed. "I thought you'd be a little bigger than that, dragon."

Gil wasn't sure what Sawyer was talking about. The wind dragon had grown in his transformation. Cepheid's dragon eyes glared at the captain, and the whirlwind continued to grow. Valko hadn't lunged again at Sawyer, and the human seemed to understand that he needed to put distance between himself and the wind. He watched the ground more than he did the dragon as he backed off, at one point turning his back on them completely, and stopped when he felt he was safe.

"Hold onto me, Gil," the dragon commanded, his voice a deep echo.

Gil wrapped his arms around Cepheid's shoulders. The force of the wind grew, and Gil saw a wall of muddied air rise around them. He couldn't hold his eyes open much longer and buried his face in the dragon's scales. Cepheid was ascending, above the mire, but they were caught in the boughs. There wasn't enough room for the breadth of the dragon's wind barrier here.

"Lee!" Sawyer cried. "Now!"

Gil couldn't see what was done, but he heard a pop against the wind.

"Sephus! Ackar!"

The sound came twice more, and the barrier stilled. Mud rained around them and back into the mire.

"Come on, men!" the captain hollered. "Give it everything you've got!"

No longer faced with the abrasion of the wind and everything pulled into it, Gil glanced to the ground. The men to whom Sawyer called were all around them. He could see them over Cepheid's shoulders. They were bigger men like the builders at the construction site. They weren't wearing full suits of armor, trading defense for agility. In their arms, they had collected nets of moss and muck from the mire. They spun the bags around, and released them, and Gil realized what the sounds had been. Lord Cepheid must have, too, because he wrenched about to face them. Lightning burst from the dragon's spines and through the bags of muck. While it did reduce the impact, the dragon and the poet were still showered again in mud. As they were, an arrow whistled past near enough that had they been any higher it would have struck them. They were being forced to descend.

Valko was rushing to them, but one of the bulky figures got between them and blocked the sentry's path. The sentry's sword of ice was not enough to parry the man's broad sword. It crashed through the ice and cut off most of the sentry's leafy ascot. His own hands full dodging the swings that followed, Valko couldn't advance, and the remaining humans focused their attention on Cepheid and Gil.

There were more arrows trained on them, but following this observation there was a swift yank at the ends of Gil's scarf. He grabbed for it, letting go of the dragon, and both he and his assailant dropped into the mire. Cepheid short arms couldn't reach, and any attack he might launch would hit Gil for more damage than the human. Though not without some difficulty, Gil could make out the shapes of everyone but the captain around him. It was Sawyer who had pulled him down, and Sawyer on whom he sat. The captain's hand gripped the hair on the nape of Gil's neck and shoved him aside, face-first into the mire.

"Mina!" Sawyer cried. "Give me a hand!"

They were both sinking, and that menace was using Gil as leverage. In his panic, Gil shoved against it, and choked as his arms sank into the muck. He could feel it sloshing around him as Sawyer was pulled to safety. At least without the captain holding him down, he could fly, and worked himself loose.

Gil scooped the muck from his eyes so he could see. Valko was no longer facing sword point and was working his way back towards Gil and Cepheid. The bigger men had been blown back, and the bow one of them carried had been snapped. They were helping each other from the mire as Gil assumed Mina had helped Sawyer. He glanced back to where the captain would be and found Sawyer almost on top of him, one of his blades drawn to strike, but the other was missing. As Gil stumbled back and out of Sawyer's range, his eyes flicked to the dragon coming to his rescue. Though he must have known, Sawyer grinned. Behind them all, the only thing visible the pallor of her face, was Mina.

Cepheid gasped sharply when the woman drew so near she disappeared behind him, though Gil couldn't tell why. Sawyer yanked the chain from around his neck and held it out where everyone could see it. The stone glowing green bobbed on the chain along with two plain stones. The dragon's face twisted in rage, but also briefly mirrored Gil's terror. His jaws snapped, and the gurgle in his throat hid the words on his breaths. As the tip of the captain's other blade tore through the dragon's scales, Gil realized what Mina had done. Rather than bleed, the dragon vaporized in a brilliant flash of violet light. When that light waned, the little light elf found what remained of it trapped in a stone on the captain's chain.

"Lord Cepheid..."

Gil's fingers twitched. His whole person trembled. He watched as Sawyer slid the chain back around his neck, and drew up the blade he still carried. Gil couldn't move as it came down. Valko dove between him and the captain, the blade striking a thin magic shield. Gil had seen that magic before. It wouldn't hold for long. But, scowling at the sentry, Sawyer drew back. In the opening, Valko grabbed Gil by the arms and dragged him into the sky.

Gil screamed, reaching back towards the ground. "Valko! Lord Cepheid, he—!"

"He's gone, Gil. There's nothing we can do."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Ah, elaborate fight scenes, it's been a while since I've written you bastards. Editing this chapter was harder than any other chapter thus far. Between the brigade, the light elves, Cepheid, and the landscape, there are too many variables here. I had a particular direction for the outcome that didn't want to work with the rest of it. This still isn't what I wanted, but I'm done. Just... done.

In terms of the damages suffered, this chapter isn't as graphic as it could have been, and it shouldn't become so in later chapters (though worse things are yet to come~) because the story doesn't need over-the-top gore. But me and FFNet's ratings have never been well acquainted. Kindly let me know if you feel this merits an M rating.

In the next chapter, word spreads quickly of Cepheid's death, carrying with it hasty accusations and spite.


	13. There Must Be Some Mistake

**Chapter Thirteen - There Must Be Some Mistake  
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><p>It was already late. If Samara stayed out any longer, it would be dawn before she came home. Clay tucked his drumsticks beneath his belt, and peered at the redhead who had nodded off beside him.<p>

"Are we calling it a night?" Rad asked, also seeming to note that Ledert had fallen asleep.

Clay shook his head. "Go to bed if you're tired."

Rad nodded. He got up from his stool, guitar in hand, and disappeared down the hall. Clay stared at the drums before him. Pretty soon, everyone would be heading to bed. He couldn't play anymore tonight. He set his hands on the back of his head and leaned against the wall.

The guitarist hadn't been gone long. He came back without his instrument and stood with a hand on his hip in front of Clay. "Are you coming?"

Clay shook his head. "I can't sleep while she's—"

"And what if _she_ fell asleep?" Rad said. "She'll be out all night, and you'll be cranky tomorrow."

The guitarist glanced over his shoulder, and down the halls, before sitting astride the drummer's lap. Clay peered up at the taller dark elf.

"Radley, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Rad murmured, sliding his hands up the lapel of the drummer's vest and letting his arms come to rest around the drummer's shoulders.

"Not now."

"Are you really going to sit here and—"

"Clay, Radley, where is Lady Vesper?"

Clay peered around the guitarist in his lap. In the corner of his eye he could see Ledert stir, too. The light elf leader's younger brother stood before them. Those wings, flight, would explain how they hadn't heard any footfalls approaching.

"What is it, Zane?" he asked, bringing his arms back down from where they cushioned his head.

"I need to speak with Lady Vesper. Immediately."

There was a sort of tremble in the light elf as he moved. Clay could hear it in his voice, too. The scowl on Zane's face belied the worry in his eyes. Rad stepped out of Clay's lap, and the drummer got up to guide the light elf. Clay led Zane down the hall to a room across from the band's, and raised his hand to knock at the door. The light elf shoved him aside and opened the door.

Vesper glared at them for the intrusion, but Zane seemed unfazed. Clay stood in the doorway, gaping at the light elf's brusque actions.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vesper spat. "Do you not have the courtesy even to knock?"

"Lady Vesper," he said, "Lord Cepheid is dead."

In the silence that followed, the dark elf elder looked down at the garment in her lap that she had been repairing, and her tongue flicked to wet her lips. Zane reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a leaflet of paper. The clack of Vesper's tongue as she swallowed and chafing sounds as Zane withdrew and unfolded the leaflet were deafening.

"The men who attacked him, they wore this crest," Zane continued.

The light elf thrust the paper into Vesper's hands. Clay couldn't just stand by the door and watch. He stepped broadly inside to get a look at the page for himself. The crude lines on it looked vaguely familiar. It was a tree with maple leaves. It was the crest of the Argent Erable. And last time he had seen Samara, she was on her way to see that brigade's captain. Clay doubled back, and raced from the room. Rad was approaching the doorway and caught the drummer on his way out.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed. "Where are you going?"

"We have to find her," Clay said.

"Samara?"

"She's in danger."

"In danger of what?" came a voice near the stairwell.

The drummer and the guitarist turned and stared.

"You're okay!" Clay cried.

Although he certainly didn't mean to, he shoved Rad aside, and rushed to the bead-wearing blonde. She stopped in her tracks and stared at him as he threw his arms around her and squeezed her in embrace.

"Clay?" she murmured. "Are you okay?"

"You know this image, don't you?" Vesper asked. Clay glanced over his shoulder to find the light elf elder holding out the drawing.

Samara nodded, a goofy grin spreading across her cheeks. "That's the crest of the Argent Erable."

"That's the crest of the men who killed Lord Cepheid," Zane amended.

"What?" As quickly as it had come, and they all knew that it would, her cheer dropped. Samara shook her head. "There must be some mistake."

"We have witnesses," the light elf insisted. "There is no mistake."

Samara backed away from Clay, cupping her hands together over her heart and grasping something he couldn't see within them. His arms reached out to hold her, but she ducked under them and raced for her and Ledert's room. The door slammed shut. At the base of the stairs, and down the hall on the second floor, other dark elves were looking their way to see what had happened. Clay made his way to the girls' bedroom door, but Ledert grabbed him by the arm. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she vehemently shook her head. She got between him and the door, and opened it a crack. Clay backed off a step as Ledert opened the door wide enough to step inside. She left it open, and Clay could see her make her way to Samara.

The blonde removed a piece of jewelry that Clay had never seen her wear before, and cast it to the ground. He could see it glint as it hit the ground, and then it bounced under the bottom bunk of the girls' beds. Samara climbed up to her bunk, and crawled beneath her blanket. Ledert looked up at her, and Clay leaned to get a better look inside. Ledert knelt on the ground, and reached beneath the bed for whatever Samara had removed.

Samara pulled the blanket up over her head, and screamed, "Leave it!"

* * *

><p>The Nowem region seemed chillier to Lucian now than it had the last time he had been through it. Autumn had rolled around, and winter was just around the corner. He could see the riverbank where they had first met Samara and Ledert, and smiled. It smelled fresh, and the morning sun lit what it could between the spackle of clouds above. Lucian fingered the bangle he carried. It was one of the few things he had seen Samara wear that wasn't entirely made of beads, and the woven strings gave it some elasticity. Even so, it didn't quite fit over his wrist, and he didn't have pockets.<p>

The entrance to the Forest Metropolis wasn't far now, and he could see a pair of redheaded dark elves near it. The drummer of the band was standing against the trunk of a tree, and the smaller flower-wearing elf was sitting beside him with a book in her hands. They didn't seem to notice Lucian approaching at first. He waited until the distance between them was short enough not to shout.

"Hello there," he called to them.

The dark elves' attention snapped to him. The drummer's hardened stare was nothing unusual, but the bunched cheeks and deep-set scowl were a look Lucian had only once seen on Ledert before. It was that time she had chastised Coty for criticizing Gil's work. She marched to Lucian, and Clay was right on her heels. When she was within reach of him, she drew back her arm and smacked Lucian across the face. That was the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

"You monster!" she screamed. "How could you?"

She balled her hands into fists and continued to beat on him.

"What are you talking about?" Lucian asked. He took her by the arms and held her back before she could do anymore damage. "What happened?"

Clay put a hand on Ledert's shoulder and eased her away from Lucian.

"You're not welcome here," the drummer said.

"Why not?" Lucian demanded. "What's going on?"

Clay uncrossed his arms and pulled a folded leaflet from a pocket on the inside of his vest and handed it to Lucian. While the captain unfolded it, he explained, "Knights attacked Lord Cepheid deep in the Marais region last night wearing a crest that looks an awful lot like yours."

Lucian's mouth hung open. The maple tree, the crest of the Argent Erable—but it couldn't be. "Samara was with me in the Cuatour region last night," the captain said. "Coty and Emilia were asleep in the fort. When would we have had the time?"

"Look," Clay said, "for her sake, I want to believe you. But you're not welcome here. You have to leave."

Although the fury was plain in his words, there was also a slight tremble. It had been harder to see when the drummer had his arms crossed, but as his hands hung loose, he fidgeted. He had put out his arm, too, albeit only slight, to keep Ledert behind him. Whether or not he wanted to believe anything, he had already made up his mind that Lucian was trouble. Maybe he had always felt as such. Lucian sighed. He glanced down at the bangle in his grasp. Holding it out, he stepped towards the drummer, and Clay shifted back half a step.

"I came to return this," Lucian sighed. "She forgot it last night. Could you give it back to her for me?"

Clay reached for the piece, tentatively taking hold of it, but he nodded.

"Thank you."

Lucian turned and headed from the Forest Metropolis and back into the paths of the Nowem region. Following the day he and his brigade had been assigned to deliver the invitation to Lord Nogueira and Lady Vesper for the meeting, he had been explained more regarding the tension between the races. The dragons were largely the reason for this. The death of the earth dragon caused considerable strain on the dwarves living in Borgandiazo. The land was becoming infertile, and the dwarves were finding poorer ore in their caves.

The dragons, Lorant had told him, were the guardians of the fairy races. There were four dragons, one for each fairy race. The earth dragon was the guardian of the dwarves. The wind dragon, Cepheid, was that of the elves. Unlike the dwarves, orcs, and goblins, the light half of the race the wind dragon protected was, in a manner of speaking, immortal. The light elves were impervious to age, and without the interference of wounds or illness they would live as long as their guardian did—forever. Cepheid had deeper bonds with the elves than the other dragons had with, well, anyone. Lucian certainly couldn't blame them for being upset, but who would have gone and done battle with the beasts wearing _his_ crest?

"I thought I might find you here," the general said. Lucian looked ahead to find Lorant looking back at him. Her expression was fixed in a scowl. Her hands were balled into fists. "Lord Nogueira sent for me. He's outraged. Tell me, Lucian, have you any idea why?"

"The dark elves told me," he replied.

"Then you know why I need you to come with me."

Lucian frowned. "Go with you where, General?"

When she was near enough, Lorant gripped his arm and guided him onwards. Lucian doubled his pace to get in-step with her. Noting his compliance, however, Lorant released him.

"The Marais region," she said. "The City of Flowers."

"But that's suicide!"

She came to a dead stop, turned around, and stared at Lucian. She stood a few inches shorter than he did, but the fire in her eyes drew a slight tremble in his hands. "Can Coty handle an assault on the fort?" she spat. "Can you?"

Lucian pressed his lips together, and swallowed the paste of saliva on his tongue. "They're going to attack?"

"They very well might," she said, "and if there's any hope of preventing it, or at least stalling them, it's you. Convince them that you and your brigade weren't there because I don't believe you were."

The general turned back to the path before them, and continued to lead the way. She didn't have much more to say. Although Lucian thought it would be wise for them to do so, they hadn't even stopped in the Cuatour region to speak with Coty and Emilia. Maybe Lorant already had, and maybe besides her support of Lucian and Samara's relationship, that was how she knew where to look for him. They went through the Marais region, and to the very crack in the wall where Valko and Zane had stood as sentries when Lucian had first visited the area.

Zane stood there now with a younger female elf beside him, but Valko was nowhere to be seen. The girl shied behind Zane at the sight of them, staring wide-eyed and trembling as they passed. Zane glowered as Lucian had never seen before, his skin was flush with anger.

"What are you doing, Lorant?" the sentry hissed. "He's not welcome here!"

"If it would make you feel any better," she said, "then consider him a prisoner of war."

The words resonated in Lucian's mind, and his heart sank. As much as he had always wished to visit the City of Flowers, just once, never in his wildest dreams were these the circumstances under which it would happen. As Lorant ducked into the narrow crack, and bid Lucian to follow, Zane rushed after them.

"Mind your post," she hissed.

The sentry's scowl deepened, but he backed off.

When they had crossed through the tall stone wall, Lucian set eyes on the greenery within for the first time. The white flowers dotting the Marais region grew in abundance here. The grass was long and green, and the river water flowing from above, to the right of the entrance, was as clear as the hate on the faces of every light elf who saw them enter.

Lucian ran his tongue across his upper lip, and kept his eyes on the vibrant, living earth beneath him. He understood now what Samara meant when she had told him how the people of Radiata regarded her, and wondered what it must have been like for Gil when he had heard of the young poet's misadventures in the human city.

"Lucian," the general whispered, "are you carrying any weapons?"

"Just a knife," the captain admitted.

She held out her hand. "Give it to me."

Lucian complied without hesitation. He unbuckled the small sheath from his belt and surrendered the machete to Lorant. The general examined the knife and scabbard.

"This was issued to you by Allard, correct?"

Lucian replied in a slight nod.

"Keane," the general called.

One of the light elves around them descended from the sky and set foot before her.

"Take this, it's yours," Lorant said. "Sell it if you like."

Lucian took a deep breath, and schooled his expression blank. There was no point getting upset about it. They had much more significant reason to be upset with him. Even though he had had nothing to do with the dragon's death, he reminded himself, they didn't know that. All they knew was that humans were responsible for it, and they were wearing his crest. Such a tag did, in part, make him accountable.

"R-right," the light elf replied. She snatched the knife and withdrew quickly from them. "Thank you." The light elf skipped back a step, and into the air, but she didn't go as far as she had been previously. She even eyed the captain and general with mild curiosity now.

"Come, Lucian," the general said.

Lorant continued to lead the way through paths and up flights of stairs that wound through the City of Flowers. At their highest, they were nearly level with the cliff face that overlooked the forefront of the Marais region. As he trudged behind Lorant, Lucian idly wondered what it must look like from up there. They would watch the bubble froggers and gobpakkens below, and even the occasional crocogator, from the relative sanctuary of the peak.

Still, his idle wondering failed to hide the scrutiny of the elves. He could see them all around out of the corners of his eyes. Some of them ducked into their huts and peered between the grassy veils, even though the grass would fail to shield them if he really was dangerous.

Lorant stopped outside the largest, highest-sitting hut in the city. She pulled the veil aside and Lucian's gaze flicked up to see around her. Valko sat in a hammock in a far corner, with his arm around Gil. The small elf had his quill in hand, and teeth gnawing the feather end of it. The poet's notebook was open in his lap, but the cork was still set in his inkpot. Lord Nogueira stood in the hut with them, pouring over a scroll with Faunus.

"Lord Nogueira," Lorant called. "I would like a word with you."

The light elf leader's eyes flicked from the scroll to the humans standing by the assembly hall's entrance. It seemed as though his attention would turn back to the scroll, but instead it came to rest on Lucian. The other light elves around the room were also looking their way. No one said anything, but the leader waved Lorant and Lucian inside.

"Lady Lorant," Nogueira sighed, "why have you brought him here?"

"The crest the assailants wore was that of the Argent Erable, was it not?" the general asked.

She guided him to where Valko and Gil sat, and the sentry's eyes flicked to his.

"Wait," Valko said, "that's _your_ brigade?"

The small elf beneath Valko's arm shook his head. "His crest," Gil murmured, "not his brigade."

"Gil," Lucian gasped, "you were there?"

Now that he was too close for the small elf to hide his face, he could see the tears still fresh on the little poet's cheeks. Valko rubbed at Gil's shoulder, and gave it a light squeeze.

Barely a whisper on his breath, Lucian murmured, "I'm sorry."

The small elf curled his arms around his knees and drew them close. His eyes were fixed on the page of his book. Lorant had her hands on Lucian's shoulders, with gentle pressure telling him to sit down. He hesitated as his eyes caught the page at which the small elf stared. Around the tears that had fallen onto the page and bled the ink, Lucian read: _Our guardian, our hope / My everything_. His knees turned to jelly, and he sank beneath the weight of the general's hands on his shoulders.

"Lucian?" Lorant called.

He peered up at the general, wide-eyed, and mouth hanging open. He realized too late the look on his face, but still glanced to the earth beneath him and wrestled it back into indifference.

"They were both there," Nogueira informed him. "Valko has told us what he could so that we might find the men responsible for this, but we've combed the mire and there remain no traces of them."

The small poet snapped shut the book in his lap. He pulled out from beneath Valko's arm long enough to take it by the spine and throw it across the room. Nogueira and Faunus both stared at the small elf. Gil was reduced to sobbing into his knees, and the sentry redoubled his efforts to console the little elf. Lucian closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, he could see Faunus collecting the notebook, and setting it onto the coffer beside the scroll she and Nogueira were examining.

"Who was it?" Lucian asked. He realized it was silly of him to say. They hadn't been seen by more than the pair, Nogueira and Faunus didn't know, and as far as Lucian could be sure, Lorant only knew as much as he did. "Valko, what did they look like?"

"Sawyer," Gil choked. He gripped at the front of Valko's shirt, and for a moment Lucian could see where the ascot had been cut clean off of the sentry. "He killed Lord Baade, too!"

Lord Nogueira strode to Gil and knelt before him. "What did you say?"

"Where are you getting your information?" Lorant demanded.

Gil withdrew further against the sentry. Valko wrapped his arms around the poet, and laid his head on the smaller elf's own. The general knelt near the elves and grabbed for Gil. Valko was quick to spot what she aimed to do and formed a barrier of wind, magic of a sort, around him and the small elf.

"I don't care who you are," the sentry snapped. "You keep your hands to yourself."

The general ground her teeth and glowered at the sentry. From what Lucian could see of the light elf leader behind her, Nogueira stared incredulously at them. Faunus was shaking her head.

"Lord Cepheid means everything to him," Valko hissed. "How could you be so insensitive?"

"Valko," the general said, a wry smile masking her fury, "since when do you show any respect at all for Lord Cepheid?"

"How I feel about him is irrelevant," the sentry huffed, "I think you've forgotten, or maybe for all the times you've visited you never noticed or cared, but until recently Lord Cepheid was Gil's _only_ friend."

Lucian heard the small elf hiccup. Gil was shaking, and maybe he should have realized sooner why. Coty had mentioned some ill between Sawyer and the small elf. But Lucian couldn't believe the Fer Lierre's captain was capable of dragon slaying.

"He had stones on a chain," Gil said. "One of them glows green, but the others were plain until he—"

"You mean the orbs?" Nogueira gasped.

Lorant vehemently shook her head. "How many, Gil? How many orbs does he carry?"

"Three," Valko replied in the small elf's stead.

"He's gotten his hands on another one, then?" Lucian said. "He only had two last time I saw him, though that was some time ago."

The general's lips were pressed together in something somewhere between a simple frown, and a deep-set scowl. She looked to Nogueira, and Nogueira shrank back just an inch. Lucian could see in him again how he held his hands together before himself with his fingers interlocked and those thumbs pressed together. His head was turned to one side, and he regarded Lorant sidelong, almost timidly.

"Lady Lorant," he said, "please excuse me for a moment."

The general stared at the light elf leader for a moment before turning her gaze skyward. Nogueira acknowledged this as dismissal, and took his leave.

"Sawyer," Lorant chuckled. "That bastard. I knew he was trouble."

She turned and looked to Lucian, and Lucian studied her back. As she seemed to do to the light elf leader, even as she looked at Lucian, she looked down on him. Lucian sighed, and turned his gaze to the ground. Lorant stepped forward then, and knelt near him. Her frown softened.

"I'm sorry, Lucian," she said. "Can you wait here for a while?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

In the next chapter, the elves are agitated, and the Argent Erable is unprepared for what's coming to Fort Ledanesis.


	14. I Think You Scared Him Off

**Chapter Fourteen - I Think You Scared Him Off**

* * *

><p>A tap came at the girls' bedroom door. It groaned on its hinges as the person behind it eased it open. "Samara?" Clay called. "Can I talk to you?"<p>

Samara could hear her bunkmate shift on the bunk below her. But the bead-loving elf didn't move.

"Look," he said, "I know you're upset."

"What was your first clue?"

He continued as if he hadn't heard her, though she was sure he had, "But your captain was here this morning."

She clutched her blanket closer.

"You forgot something there," he continued.

"I know," she huffed.

"He came to give it back to you."

Samara sighed, but the frown creasing her lips eased a bit as she rolled over to peer at the elf outside her door. He was staring back. As if it were an invitation, he opened the door a little wider, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. He walked to the bunks, his eyes flicking briefly to Ledert's beneath Samara, and folded his arms on the edge of the top bunk. She could see the bangle in his hand, but didn't reach out from beneath her blanket to claim it.

"Just between us," he said, "you, and me, and Ladybird..." He sighed. "You know I don't care for him, but I don't like seeing you like this."

"Yeah, well," she muttered.

"I don't believe he was there. He had nothing to do with it."

Samara stared into the drummer's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"He didn't know," Clay explained. "At least, he didn't seem like he knew. I'm no mind reader, but when we told him to leave, that's the first time he's ever looked hurt."

Samara tentatively reached for the bangle in Clay's hand. She pulled it to herself and peered at it with delicate fascination. "You're sure?" she asked.

"I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't," he said.

Samara leaned forward, reaching for the back of the drummer's head, and kissed his brow. "Thank you."

Clay stood back, and nodded. But then he shook his head, and the frown on his lips deepened. "Look, I mean, this is just talk," he said, "but you move fast, and I think someone should tell him Lady Vesper and Zane were discussing the possibility of an assault on that fort you've been visiting."

"What?"

"You didn't hear that from me."

He was leaving the room. Samara threw her blanket aside, and rolled her lower half off the edge of the bed.

"Hey, watch it!" Ledert exclaimed.

Samara's feet caught on the edge of Ledert's bunk, and she jumped to the floor. As Clay was reaching for the door, she grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him back around.

"What?"

"See for yourself," the drummer said.

He proceeded into the hall, and Samara was right on his heels. She saw nothing out of the ordinary in the hall, except that the band hadn't pulled out their instruments to play. Rad and Holly were further down the hall, near their room. Samara made her way towards the stairs that led up to the audience room, where she could make out several murmuring voices.

"They're deciding whether it's worth it to begin the march now, or to await further instruction from Zane," Clay explained. "But Lady Vesper has already amassed everyone she means to bring, and if they're going to attack, it'll happen before dawn tomorrow."

Samara rushed back to her and Ledert's room. She collected her pack, adjusted the shoulder strap, and her fingers brushed over one another. Normally she would think nothing of it because normally it didn't matter. But right now, there was a priceless stone missing from her finger as a result of her hurt, and it would hurt a lot worse if she didn't collect that ring and put it back where it belonged.

Samara bent to the floor, getting down on all fours, to look under the bed for the gold band and the rainbow crystal affixed to it.

"Is that what you're looking for?" Ledert asked.

Samara leaned back and glanced up at her redheaded roommate. Ledert peered back around the edge of the book in her hands, and pointed a finger in the direction of their dresser. The crystal was sitting right there in plain sight. Samara nodded, and snatched it. She gasped at the relief it gave her to slide it back around her finger. She turned back to the other dark elf, and dove into bed beside her. Ledert lowered the book, staring bewilderedly at the bead-wearing elf. Samara threw her arms around the Ledert and gave her a tight squeeze.

"I'll be back," she said. "I promise."

Ledert nodded, and Samara crawled back out of bed. As she left the room, Clay stood, waiting, in the hall.

"Take this," he told her. There was a scabbard in his hands, about a foot long. The hilt and blade inside it were heavy. She had seen this piece before, but not often. It was a hunting knife. "I know it's not much, but in case that magic of yours isn't enough I'd feel better if you brought it along."

Samara nodded. She threw her arms around Clay, too, before tucking the blade into her bag. The hilt jutted from her pack and she couldn't buckle both clasps, but as long as she didn't have to carry it in her hands, it was fine. She peered up the stairs one last time before heading out of the Forest Metropolis.

* * *

><p>Coty lay sprawled out on the grass on the lake side of the fort. Night had come early today, maybe because of the clouds in the sky. He frowned. It wasn't as much to look at without the stars. He set his arms behind his head, and closed his eyes to the darkness.<p>

"While the captain's out, aren't you supposed to be in charge?" Emilia asked.

"Yeah," Coty muttered, "and as your substitute captain, I'm telling you to buzz off."

"Coty!" she snapped. "I've been in the lookout tower all day. I haven't seen you lift a finger since the captain left."

Coty pulled one of his hands from behind his head, and reached for the sky. "There," he said. "I've lifted four fingers and a thumb. Now will you leave me alone?"

Emilia crouched over Coty, and poked the older knight's belly with the hilt of her sword. Coty rolled his eyes at her, and rolled onto his side so that he held his back to her. Behind him, Emilia huffed.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" she asked. "There are beds inside, you know."

"Well, I was waiting for Valko," Coty said, "but I think you scared him off."

He couldn't hear her jaw fall, but he did hear it snap shut again, and he grinned. He also heard the shuffling her skirt as she stood again.

"Fine," she huffed.

She stomped in a clatter of armor back in the direction of the fort. Coty lay there on the grass for several minutes more. His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, though, and if he stayed there any longer he might fall asleep on the grass. Not that there would be any ill with that if Lucian was there watching over the fort. But without the captain around, Coty pulled himself back to a seated position and shook off the urge to sleep.

He picked himself up off the ground, and yawned long and loudly into the palm of his hand. As he stretched his arms above his head, he saw a faint glow in the distance. It came from the Marais region. First he blinked, and then he squinted into the night. They were light elves. He stepped forward in haste, as if the few paces would give him a better look at the figures silhouetted by the shimmer of their wings. He couldn't tell how many had one pair of wings, and how many two, but there had to be almost twenty light elves heading their way.

He considered the number. Besides him and Emilia, there were a couple other knights in the Argent Erable brigade stationed at the site. The construction crew was a dozen strong. Even if the captain had been around, they were still as many in number as the light elves approaching. Besides Valko and Gil, he was also sure that the light elves didn't care much for them. His shoulders began to shake when the elves were near enough for him to identify the one who led them. It was Zane.

Coty spun on his heel and raced for the door. When he had shoved it open and slammed it shut behind him, he cried to the people in the fort, "Someone give me a hand!"

"Coty, what are you doing?" he heard Emilia ask.

He was reaching for a thick block of wood leaning near the door. It sat there expressly as a bolt to barricade that door.

"Light elves," he gasped. "Lots of them."

One of the builders was quicker than Emilia was, and grabbed hold of the other end of the fat plank. They dropped it in place, into the holsters on either sides of the north-facing doors of the fort, and Coty turned back to Emilia.

"Thank god you're armored, girl," he breathed. "Everyone, grab your weapons! Now!"

Emilia stood back as Coty raced past her. Of course his own armor was in one of the rooms of the fort. He stepped around piles of bricks and buckets encrusted with mortar, and over the wooden planks that had been carelessly strewn about the interior of the fort. His mind reeled. He couldn't pull his armor on fast enough.

When he returned, his spear in hand, he looked around for the other knights. "Joel, Alfa!" he cried. "What do we do?"

The other knights looked as lost as he did, their mouths hanging open and their hands on the hilts of their weapons. Alfa shrugged, and Joel shook his head.

"Where's the captain?" Joel asked. "Don't tell me he ran off with that elf again."

Coty shook his head. "No," he said. "I mean, he did, but he passed through again this afternoon. He was headed towards the elf region with the general."

"If they're in the elf region," the other knight mulled, "then why are the light elves here?"

"Hell if I know!"

The doors of the fort shattered in a mess of light energy. The plank still barred the path, but it did little else and it didn't stand for long.

"Human scum!" cried a voice Coty had heard before. "You'll pay for what you've done!"

Coty's attention whipped back to the door as Zane's elf magic cut through the board. The fort rose high, but it didn't have a closed ceiling. Only a few rooms, sleeping and meeting quarters, against the cliff face had full roofs. Zane stepped inside first, his feet firmly on the ground, but the elves who joined him in the north-facing foyer were afloat and they were all free to attack from above the human knights.

Coty called to the knights over his shoulder. "Get in formation!" He tilted his spear, and took measured steps towards the light elf who led the assault. "I don't know what you're playing at," he said, "but we've done nothing to you!"

"Nothing?" the elf scoffed. "Nothing! That's what you call slaying our guardians?"

A javelin of light materialized in the elf's hands. He strode forward, driving it against Coty's steel lance. Coty staggered back a step before his soles gripped the earth and he threw the light elf back. The knights behind him parried blades of wind as they projected through the air from the smaller light elves behind Zane. Coty heard some of the builders cry out behind them. Though they sounded fearful, they didn't yet sound as though they had been injured. The leading light elf struck against Coty's lance again, and this time it was the stand-in captain who was driven back. More of the light elves outside poured into the fort. There were bows and arrows of light, similar to the ringleader's javelin. They struck as hard against the knights' defenses as iron did.

The bigger, four-winged elf leading the attack drew back and raised his palm to the knights. Coty twisted his lance and deflected what he could of the sparking balls that shot from the Zane's hand. The last one, he missed with his weapon. It barreled into his shoulder, and though it left no abrasion on his skin, the sharp jolt left him reeling. The light elf strode forward again and took hold of Coty's weapon. Coty gripped his lance firmly, and given the advantage of his leather-palmed gloves held better than Zane did. But Zane wasn't holding to claim the piece. He walked straight forward, into Coty, and still recovering from the shock Coty wasn't quick enough to prevent the elf from gaining ground.

As he was driven farther back, he could see that he was not alone. The smaller light elves had driven back the other knights, though not without themselves taking damage. The builders had also taken up their axes, hoes, shovels, anything they could get their hands on to defend themselves. But while they were busy defending their skins, they were quickly losing the fort.

"Retreat, Coty!" Emilia cried. "We should retreat!"

"But—!"

Zane shoved farther against Coty, and when an inch of space opened between them, the light elf released the lance with one hand and with the other slashed with a vacuum blade beneath the knight's steel. Coty staggered back, narrowly avoiding damage as the blade grazed his breastplate. The exit on the Radiata side of the fort had been opened. The men who had worked so hard to build it were scrambling out into the south side of the Cuatour region and back towards Radiata. Coty wasn't so sure about the smaller elves, but Zane was overpowered. He doubted even Lucian could stand up to the four-winged elf. He slashed at Zane, but the light elf bobbed out of the radius of the attack. Smaller light elves closed around the knights, as if to funnel them out of the fort.

"Coty, come on!" Joel called. "It's not worth your life!"

Even as the knights followed the builders out onto the path behind the fort, the light elves still advanced. Coty realized too late why the full light elf force he had seen approaching hadn't filled the fort. Some of the elves had flown right over it, and awaited the men who had been flushed out. They were already chasing the builders from the area. Coty swung his lance in a broad arc to stave off the light elves flanking him before they could strike.

He was twisting back to Zane, aware too late that his back had been turned for too long, when another body crashed into his and sent him careening forward. He whipped about to attack his assailant, and instead stopped dead at what he saw.

The light elf who led the assault had been about to attack him. The one who had crashed into him was Valko. And between the two, driven right through the smaller sentry elf, was Zane's javelin of light. The javelin dematerialized, and for a moment both elves stood aghast. The smaller elf seemed to stare blindly forward as the clothes on his back began to stain.

The larger elf gripped the front of Valko's shirt, his eyes wide with rage. "You!" Zane spat. "How dare you show your face here!"

Valko groped for the hole Zane's javelin had left in through his shirt, gasping sharply as his fingers reached the wound. He turned his hand towards the larger light elf and cast blades of wind at him. There wasn't enough space between them for the attack to reach even half of its potential, but Zane still flinched. He cast Valko back, and the wounded elf stumbled and fell.

"Coty, behind you!" Emilia screamed.

The knight whipped back around. A couple of the other light elves were closing in on him again. They weren't nearly as strong as Zane, and when one fell to his lance, the other hesitated to attack again. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed to Coty the charge of the lightning balls that Zane had hit him with earlier. Before the attack could discharge, the four-winged light elf yelped and staggered back.

Coty had returned to parrying the other light elf when he heard Zane cry, "Unhand me, filthy human!"

The parries quickly turned him and the light elf against whom he defended himself in a half-circle, and he could see behind her what had caused Zane grief. Lucian gripped the larger light elf's hair and pulled him away from where Valko had fallen. Zane twisted about and stabbed at Lucian with his vacuum blade, and Lucian had to release him to avoid taking the blow. The captain didn't have his sword. All he held with which to defend himself was a knife that did not resemble the ones each knight carried.

Lucian and Valko weren't the only two to join the battle. Samara was bent over the downed sentry elf, and flame-like tendrils of magic curled from beneath her fingers into Valko's wound. Restorative magic, he assumed. As Coty became caught up in the company, he was knocked back a step by his assailant. He took a full swing at her with the point of his lance, batting the elf aside as she put up a barrier of leaves and wind in her defense.

Coty stepped quickly to the blonde dark elf and the downed sentry. Valko hadn't lost as much blood as the knight had feared. Samara shook as she strained to close the wound, and didn't seem to notice much else around her. Valko was watching the captain and the leading light elf as they continued to clash only a few steps from where they sat. Coty looked to what the sentry saw, how Zane seemed to glow. More than just his wings, his whole being shone.

"Samara, Coty," the sentry choked, "run!"

When that light peaked, Zane channeled the energy into his hand and thrust his arm skyward. Coty didn't think twice before grabbing Samara by the arm and yanking her off of Valko. Needles burst from Zane's palm, lighting the sky like fireworks. The dark elf staggered after Coty as he ran. Their shadows grew bold before them and the ground shook beneath their feet as the light rained down.

* * *

><p>Samara continued to stumble after Coty as they disappeared in the hills between Fort Ledanesis and Radiata. No longer facing an immediate threat, she yanked back against the knight's hold.<p>

"Let me go!"

"I need to know," Coty said. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," she cried. "Lord Cepheid is dead. Lady Vesper is preparing for war. Zane's already attacked. And Lucian and Valko, they—"

Coty spun about, gripped the dark elf by both arms, and stared into her eyes. "Don't say it."

"But I saw—"

An arrow whizzed past their heads, and Coty whipped back around to find its source. "Hold your fire!" he called into the shadows.

When her eyes had adjusted well enough to see from whence it came, Samara found the woman whose success they had celebrated that night in Radiata, and the wild-haired man with whom she had danced. They weren't concealed at all, though they were covered in dried mud, and blended with the dirt and trees along the outskirts of the path.

"What happened to you?" Coty exclaimed.

"You already know," the wild-haired captain sneered. "The wind dragon is dead. And you're fraternizing with the enemy."

"Enemy?"

Sawyer gestured past Coty to Samara. Mina had lifted her bow and notched another arrow. Coty stepped back against Samara. Samara shook her head in disbelief, but kept to Coty's shadow. That arrow trained on her.

"Mina," the wild-haired man growled, "what are you waiting for?"

Coty shook his head. "Mina, no."

But the arrow flew. It struck the bigger bead threaded into the hair on the side of Samara's face, breaking it off, but she and the knight standing before her were otherwise unscathed.

"Oops," the archer cooed, "I missed."

Mina spun on her heel, and headed in the direction of the northern gate into the city. The woman still carried half a quiver of arrows and easily could have shot a third. Sawyer's jaw dropped. His hands balled into fists as he stalked after her.

"You okay?" Coty asked.

Samara's eyes flicked to his, not realizing he had looked her way. She nodded, so he took off after the other humans, and she turned back to the fort.

The return trek could not be quick enough. Samara ran all the way. Lady Faunus had been inside the fort. No doubt Lord Nogueira's second-in-command would have heard the commotion outside, no doubt she would have put an end to things and made every effort to restore the damages wrought by the elf lord's younger brother. At least for Valko. Samara spent every step wondering what the light elves would do to Lucian, assuming the captain still lived.

When she approached the fort, she found Zane standing guard out front with his arms crossed before his chest, but an otherwise neutral expression. There was a smaller light elf beside him, the one who had exchanged blows with Coty, whom Samara was sure she had seen long before heckling Valko for shirking sentry duty. She was mending Zane's wounds. Samara slowed almost to a stop, pausing to catch her breath before approaching the guard.

"Zane?" she breathed.

The light elf's lips twitched as if he would scowl, but instead he stared coolly at her before skimming the land around her. He was looking for a trap. He wasn't preventing her approach, however, so she made her way to the door by which he stood.

"Where is he?" she demanded. "Where's Lucian?"

She flinched at the look he shot her, and even the smaller light elf in his company seemed to shrink back from him. Maybe she shouldn't have asked. Even so, Zane said nothing. She reached tentatively for the door, as if he would reprimand her for attempting to get inside as well, but he made no effort to stop her. She slipped into the fort, and took a quick look around.

Lady Faunus stood at the table that the builders had assigned as a dinner table beside a small light elf with squinty eyes who examined a collection of things before her. Faunus stared at the tabletop between her hands. The weight of her body sagged on her arms, and her face was drawn. Samara approached cautiously.

"Lady Faunus?" she murmured.

The four-winged light elf glanced in Samara's direction, her hands grasping at the tabletop. Her gaze only briefly met Samara's before returning to the floor.

"He's in one of the beds in the back."

Samara nodded, and made her way around the debris on the floor. She continued into one of the side halls, to a room along the side-center of the fort. There were a couple injured light elves at the back of the room being mended by their peers. Lucian lay in one of the nearer beds, ashen, but breathing. Samara crept into the room, afraid to break the silence blanketing them all, and knelt by his bedside. She folded her arms on the cot, and laid her head upon them, and her fingers curled around loose strands of his hair.

She knelt there, staring without seeing, for a long while before it occurred to her that she hadn't seen Valko. There were other light elves besides Faunus and the small squinty-eyed girl in the foyer, and there were other light elves resting here, but where was the sentry? She stood up and took a look around, but besides her and her bedridden captain, she could identify no one else in the room.

Samara's fingers traced the veins on the back of Lucian's hand before she made her way back into the foyer.

"Lady Faunus," she called, when she was sure she was distant enough not to disturb Lucian and the elves at rest. "Where's Valko?"

Faunus stared at Samara as she approached. But when the dark elf drew near, the four-winged light elf slumped onto the stool beneath her. The small light elf behind her frowned and left her collection to place a hand on Faunus' shoulder. The older, four-winged elf sighed before she looked to Samara and confirmed what the dark elf already feared. "He's dead."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Why yes, I am a heartless bastard. There will be down time and humor to come (though my sense of humor is likely not to anyone else's taste), but really, things are only going to get worse from here. Zane has too much attack variety, but everything is from the game. His volty blast, in serious context, would have the potential to hit everyone in the area rather than just a specific target, and it would do _massive_ damage. Please don't hurt me. ;_;

In the next chapter, we have fun with the Fer Lierre brigade until the fire dragon crashes the party.


	15. You're Making Me Nervous

**April Fools Gag Chapter - You're Making Me Nervous**

* * *

><p>Coty stood with his spear protruding from his crossed arms at the far end of the Faucon Gate's bridge, looking out over the Cuatour region. After nearly being caught asleep in the grass by elven forces, he was reluctant to sit. One foot and then the other tapped at the ground. In the absence of their captain, the Argent Erable had been disbanded. He, Emilia, and the rest had been reassigned to other brigades. Something told him even if Lucian was still alive and returned to Radiata, the captain would be discharged from the knights.<p>

"Sit down," Sawyer told him. "You're making me nervous."

Coty glanced sidelong at the Fer Lierre's captain, but shook his head. He wasn't carrying himself as a knight should, he knew, but Sawyer was being altogether too casual. Mina, too, and Drago didn't have a choice with Sawyer's arm resting on his shoulder. Earlier that morning, Coty had caught the other men of the Fer Lierre brigade tossing around snide commentaries about their captain, though they stopped when they realized they had an audience. They were quiet and still now, standing tall in a row across the end of the bridge and ready to draw their weapons, a proper example of how the knights ought to behave.

Coty turned his gaze to the ground, and was caught mid-sigh when Mina shifted. The woman stood, raised her bow, and notched an arrow. Coty quickly looked back into the distance. Someone was approaching, a light elf, but the elf was alone.

Sawyer commanded, "Do it."

"Wait!" Coty exclaimed.

He hadn't the chance to wonder why he would defend the figure as that arrow flew. The shot, however, fell short of its mark.

Rather than pluck another arrow from her quiver, Mina lowered the bow. "Resilient, isn't he?"

In the corner of his eyes, Coty saw the captain and his arm rest stand in turn. The elf before them, though it was unusual for Coty to see him fly with a somewhat level stretch of land on which to walk, was Valko. Coty cast his lance aside and rushed down the travel-worn gravel.

"You're alive!"

Valko's hadn't even touched the ground when the knight tackled him. Coty bound the elf in his arms, still staggering forward with momentum. Not able to wrestle his arms all the way around Coty, Valko gripped the fabric exposed between the chest and hip plates of the knight's armor.

"Thank goodness you're okay," the elf said.

"How did you—?" Coty asked, standing back and holding Valko at arm's length. "I mean, you were—"

"Leaf shield. It wasn't as bad as it looked," the elf replied, but his cheer soured. "Not for me. I wish I could say the same of your captain."

The elf had redressed in clean cotton—clothes that had been in the fort and belonged to the knight. That would explain why Coty didn't feel that the approaching light elf was a foe. He stood back, and pulled up the front of the borrowed shirt to see what had become of the javelin wound. The skin around the wound was dark red-violet, like a bruise, but the wound itself was closed.

"Samara did enough," Valko explained. "It's still sore, but—"

"Why are you here?" the Fer Lierre's captain asked.

Valko's gaze flicked from Coty to Sawyer, and he scowled. "They think I was on your side," he said. "They think I _helped_ you kill Cepheid."

Behind Coty, the captain sneered, "Well you _did_, didn't you?" Sawyer claimed Coty's shoulder as he had Drago's. "You certainly didn't help _him_."

Coty shrugged out from beneath the captain's stance. Sawyer wore that wolfish grin on his face, but he had a hand on the hilt of one of his blades. Coty knew it wasn't unusual for Sawyer to change face at the drop of a hat. He turned to the captain, stepping between him and the elf. Sawyer didn't seem terribly bothered as he cocked his head to one side and stared first at and then around Coty.

"Well isn't that sweet." Sawyer's grin broadened. "You gonna profess how much you love that fairy faggot?"

"He saved my life."

"Yeah, we were there," the captain huffed. "So? What are you gonna do, marry him?"

"Well, there's an idea," Mina said. "I'll get Rudy."

Coty stared, dumbfounded, as the archer skipped back in the direction of town.

"Wait, Mina!" Sawyer exclaimed. The captain started after her, but she had already slipped behind the line of knights on the bridge and didn't seem to be listening. He shook his head. Rather than pursue her, Sawyer stared pointedly at the blonde. "Drago."

"Y-yes captain?"

"Go to the magic school, get Evander and the kids," he commanded. "We're gonna need a ring bearer and a flower girl."

Coty buried his face in his palm, only peering long enough between his fingers to see Drago trudge after Mina.

"And rings!" Sawyer added.

Drago stopped and looked back at them. "Captain, how am I supposed to afford rings?"

"Oriel owes me," Sawyer said. "Now go!"

Coty shook his head and glanced over his shoulder to the elf behind him. Valko averted his gaze before the knight could meet him eye-to-eye. Even his ears were pink. Coty ruffled the elf's hair, and then left his arm to fall around Valko's shoulders.

"It's a joke," he said. "They'll be back any minute." When the elf said nothing, and seemed to withdraw further into the flustered mess he had become, Coty tried another tack. "Does anyone know you're here?"

The reddened glow in Valko's features drained. The sudden solemnity was not quite what the knight had expected. "They think I'm dead."

"Even your mom?"

"It was her idea."

* * *

><p>Sawyer had reclaimed the spot in which he had been sitting on the ground. He had spent the last couple hours muttering obscenities and flicking the grass with his fingers. If it really was a joke, Mina and Drago were doing a damn good job of acting. Coty was sitting now, too, with the light elf still beneath his arm and leaning against him. Valko seemed content to have been accepted into human company, but was still reluctant to trust any of them.<p>

"Where's Drago?" Mina asked.

Coty glanced around the knights stationed on the bridge. Mina was walking in stride with a lanky man bulked up with robes. Rudy was one of the most prominent members of the priest guild, and a good friend of hers. Coty wasn't sure, however, what the newcomer thought of Sawyer. Rudy carried himself as Lucian did, calm and compliant, but he had shifty eyes and deft fingers, and the knight wouldn't dare cross him. They also had a cart in tow, and Coty couldn't see from where he sat what was in that cart.

"Mina, you..." Coty pulled away from Valko and stood to get a better look at what they had in the there though he still couldn't spy much before looking fully to the archer and her company. "You actually brought Rudy?"

"Of course," she replied. "Let's face it, Cotes, there isn't a girl alive who's going to love you as much as _he_ does."

"But—"

"Where's Drago?" she asked again.

"Getting the kids," Sawyer huffed. "He better not be lost."

Coty rolled his eyes back to the elf as the conversation continued without him. Valko had buried his face in his arms. This time his ears weren't pink. They were scarlet. Coty stepped back to the elf and slumped back to the ground beside him. The elf lifted his head and peered sidelong at the knight. Though his lips pursed, he said nothing, and instead laid his head on his arms and stared into the distance.

"Captain!" Drago cried.

The blonde came rushing out onto the bridge, pausing when he was within arm's length of the exemplary knights—just in the corner of Coty's eye. He gasped for breath there behind Mina and Rudy. He glanced over his shoulder, squeaked, and scampered around the line of knights.

Sawyer shuffled back to his feet and scowled at Drago. "What is it?"

As the younger knight dashed behind his captain, another man came skipping around the bend. Coty shook his head at the man, as tall as Lucian but with a greater girth, and blind without the thick, box-like goggles covering half of his face. There was a twinkle in, well, the lenses of those goggles.

"You need not be shy, my dear," Oriel said.

Sawyer shook his head, slid an arm around Drago's waist, and pulled the smaller knight to his side. "This one's mine."

"Wha—"

"Oh," Oriel sighed, "very well, then." The jeweler cleared his throat and stood to the full of his height. "You needed rings?"

"Is Coty really getting married?" cried a tiny voice. The girl attached to it was only a step behind the jeweler, and the professor and his son Feivel not far behind her.

"Yes he is~" Sawyer sang, kneeling to catch the girl as she came running. "And you get to be the flower girl."

"I don't wanna be the flower girl," she said.

"Why not?"

"I wanna be ring bearer."

"Ah," the jeweler sighed. "She's a girl after my own heart."

Coty took a deep breath, and let it out in the longest sigh he had ever breathed.

"Sorry," the elf beside him murmured. "I shouldn't have told them."

"It's all right," Coty assured. "You weren't exactly discreet about it at the fort anyway."

The redness in Valko's cheeks darkened tenfold. The knight gave Valko a pat on the shoulder and reclined where he sat. But with everyone back at the gate, with rings, a priest, and a cart full of things Coty had yet even to see, Sawyer was looking their way. The captain grinned that wolfish grin when he saw Coty looking back at him.

"I guess that means it's time to get hitched," he said.

Coty shook his head. Not willing to allow this denial, Sawyer stepped forward and grabbed Valko by the arms. The elf didn't have a chance to resist, and it might not have done his injury much good even to try. Before anyone could do the same to Coty, the knight heaved himself back onto his feet. Mina and Rudy were headed their way with the cart, and Sawyer still hadn't released Valko. As it passed within his line of sight, Coty found a number of items in the cart relating to their predicament. He wondered if Rudy always had these things on hand. They stopped before the captain and the elf, and Mina reached into the cart for the veil sitting on top. She set it on Valko's head, and grinned at her handiwork before leading the cart aside.

Coty and Valko exchanged glances. The flush wasn't as evident now that the elf's face was masked in translucent white, but Valko was rubbing at his arms, each with the other, and avoiding eye-contact with anyone else. Sawyer and Mina ushered he and Valko into place, and Rudy stood before the exemplary knights lined along the bridge. Coty took the opportunity to shake his head again. Whatever. There was a certificate to sign, other proper proceedings, and without them this was all a joke.

Behind them, most of the company stood behind them on the gravel path. Before them, Rudy had begun to recite the traditional spiel.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—"

"Skip to the good part," Sawyer interjected.

Rudy pressed his lips together, and it took a moment for him to erase the traces of a scowl from his lips and wrestle them back into a cheap smile. He tried anew. "Do you, Coty—"

"No, Rude, the other good part." That time, it was Mina who spoke out.

The priest looked to Valko, and then to Coty. The flat line of a smile and the raised brow turned some sort of irate pity upon them. He took a deep breath, exaggerating as if he were the one being made a fool of in all of this, and said, "You may kiss the..." His jaw dropped, and Coty could see the knights behind Rudy taking up their arms. "Dragon!"

Everyone turned to see what had come. The beast was bigger than a tusky mammoth. From its giant maw, to the spines trailing from the top of its head, to the club-like end of its tail. It was the first time Coty had ever seen a dragon before. Evander lifted Teddy and Feivel and ran for the city as the armed knights rushed forward. Sawyer withdrew his blades. And when Coty finally saw past them and the giant beast, he saw that the dragon was not alone. The same light elves who had rained hell on Fort Ledanesis were also on their way.

But while Zane looked ready to launch another assault, the dragon was shifting into a smaller form. A more human-like form, Coty noted, as the transformation left a figure that looked something like the man who had attacked him and Ledert in the city—a strange hybrid of human and orc anatomy.

"I don't believe it," the dragon said. "You're all havin' a party, and you didn't even think to invite me."

Of course, the elves weren't coming to attack Radiata. They had come bearing gifts. Dozens of bottles of elven wine, and apologies all around. With the races now united in some strange twist of matrimony, they all got drunk, and lived happily ever after.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Did you read to the end anyway? xD Happy April Fools, though it's probably not the day as you're reading this. I did my best to make the beginning plausible, but assume that nothing in this chapter is true. The real chapter fifteen I outlined for personal reference only and wasn't going to write it, but things have changed. Now it's appropriate to include it. The best part? Chapter fourteen's next chapter teaser is still accurate for the real chapter fifteen.

So again, in the next chapter, we have fun with the Fer Lierre brigade until the fire dragon crashes the party. Except, of course, it won't be the same kind of party.


	16. I Don't Want You to Go

**Chapter Fifteen - I Don't Want You to Go  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Drago awoke to a weight on his stomach. It seemed to bounce there for a minute as he lurched into consciousness. He squinted at the haze around him. His right arm and leg were hanging from the surface on which he lay. The old sofa had rat holes chewed into it. He could feel them and the springs against his back. This certainly wasn't the castle, but it wasn't unusual for the brigade to shack in strange places during their travels. More pressing was that weight upon him. He didn't have to look hard to see what it was as a face with bright, brown eyes leaned over him, and small hands clutched at his shirt.<p>

"Daddy says it's time to get up," the girl informed Drago.

The knight reached up and pulled the girl against him. "What if I don't wanna get up?"

"Then you'll miss breakfast."

Drago sighed. He rolled into a seated position, the girl sliding into his lap, and peered over the edge of the couch. Mina was sitting at a table meant only for two, papers both in hand and spread across the table's surface. From what he could see, they looked like his own handiwork—maps of the Dorse region. Not far from Mina stood the captain, at ease in an apron and chopping some onion and pepper for an omelet.

"Good morning, sunshine," Sawyer called without turning to face the younger knight.

Drago frowned. "Why are we in Mina's apartment?"

"I wanted to spend time with my Teddy bear," the captain replied.

Drago was sure there was more to it than that. Sawyer had been agitated for as long as they were in the Marais region, and it only grew worse when the light elf they had encountered had confessed some of the finer details about the dragons. Drago hadn't heard that conversation. He had been ordered to keep out of sight and observe, and was happy to oblige. He had been sent back to Radiata with a sealed letter penned by Mina and addressed to the commander-in-chief, ordered to send the rest of the brigade into the depths of the Marais region, but not to return there himself. When the brigade came back, another stone glowed on the captain's chain. It was safe to assume the wind dragon had fallen, and this time without any casualties. After reporting to Allard, however, the captain had packed his belongings and left the castle—and of course he had wrangled Drago into coming along.

Putting the thought from his mind, Drago turned back to the girl in his lap. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. As soon as she seemed sure that his attention wouldn't wane, Teddy turned to a table within reach of the couch and snatched a book. Drago didn't have the chance to get a look at the cover before she shoved it at him.

"Read it to me?" she asked, grinning.

"After breakfast," Sawyer interrupted. He had slipped around the couch and behind Drago, and the younger knight shuddered at the ease with which Sawyer had snuck up on him. But the captain bore a plate in each hand, dressed with egg and toast.

Drago replied with a simple, "Thank you," as he accepted the proffered plate, while Teddy complied and set her book back on the table.

After breakfast, Teddy collected Drago's plate for him and bid him to stay where he was. Mina had tucked the mess of sketches back into their file, and she and Sawyer were finishing their breakfast at the table. After the girl had set the dishes by the sink, she returned to the couch. Though there was plenty of space on either side of him, she collected her book and settled back in Drago's lap. She curled beneath his arm and looked with him at the book's cover. There was a dark elf and bold lettering painted on it.

"Little Red Riding Hood," he read aloud.

Before he could crack the book open, the couch sunk behind him with the weight of another. He was about to glance over his shoulder to find the source when an arm slipped around his and Teddy's bellies and pulled them down. He stared wide-eyed at the captain, and Sawyer was already smirking back at him. Mina claimed the other end, pulling Drago's legs into her lap and leaving his feet on the arm rest.

Teddy snuggled into the nook left between Drago and the cushions along the back rest of the couch. "Read it~"

Drago glanced back up at the captain as he groped for the first page inside the cover. He wasn't sure he liked having his head in the captain's lap. Sawyer seemed unfazed. The captain sat his elbow on the arm rest beside him and leaned his cheek against his knuckles. The other arm gave Teddy and Drago a light squeeze. The smirk was gone. Drago turned his attention back to the book, pulled open the pages, and began to read aloud.

When he had finished reading, Teddy shimmied out of her place beside him, took the book, and dashed into the depths of the apartment. Drago would have stared after her if his position allowed him to see around the couch. He shifted to push himself back into a seated position, but the arm still around his waist redoubled its grip and kept him where he lay.

"Captain?"

Sawyer's eyes flicked to his, but otherwise the man didn't move. "We're heading south today," he said. "We got a tip about the fire dragon, an obvious one. Fire mountain, in the Dichett region, is its home." The captain leaned back, pulled his arms up behind his head, and laid his head in his hands. "I gotta get the rest of knights in case we actually find anything there. When I go, I want you and Mina to take Teddy to school, and then meet us at Canis gate."

Free at last, Drago was about to get up when Teddy returned. She crawled back on top of him, another book in hand, and beamed at him.

"Let him up," Saywer told her. "I gotta go, and after this one so do they."

The girl clutched at the book for a moment, the smile falling from her cheeks. She crawled back off of Drago, but left the book there on his stomach. As he sat up, Teddy claimed the captain's open lap and wormed her arms around him. "I don't want you to go."

"I know, Teddy bear," he said. He reached around her and held her firmly against him. "But after this I'll be home a lot more."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

The girl sat back in Sawyer's lap, and the captain bent over her to kiss her forehead. After which, as the two stared at one another, Drago felt he was intruding to sit so near.

"Hey!" Teddy exclaimed.

Drago glanced over his shoulder. The girl was frowning. The younger knight shifted into a proper, forward-facing seated position to ease the discomfort of craning his neck to see what had further soured her humor. Sawyer looked as bewildered as Drago felt.

"You took it out!" she accused, pointing one of her fingers at the side of the captain's face.

And he had, Drago noted. The braid Sawyer always wore over his left ear had been unraveled, and must have been for some time as the hair wasn't crimped from wear. Sawyer reached as if to touch it, but Teddy beat him to it. The captain rolled his eyes, and left her to do as she pleased. A minute later, the braid had been restored, and Sawyer was left to hold the end while his daughter searched for something with which to tie it off.

Sawyer glanced to Drago and huffed. "What?"

Drago grinned in spite of himself and replied, "So that's where that comes from~"

* * *

><p>The brigade had been walking for some time through the Dorse region. Drago watched the jungle foliage and beaten paths carefully, a leather-bound book in one hand, and the other hand taking notes. Occasionally the captain would stop to ask if he had noticed particular landmarks. Mainly traps. Thus far, Drago had seen every one Sawyer had and more. The younger knight might have been a horrible judge of character, but he was right at home with the land. His crude mapping remained infallible. There was more smoke than mountain visible in the distance, but they were undoubtedly drawing near the south-east edge of the Dorse region. Somewhere in the Dichett region, somewhere around that dreadful mountain, they might find the fire dragon.<p>

Drago glanced up from his scrawling and found himself several yards behind the rest of the company, not for the first time. The captain was still at the head of the group, with Mina and a priest named Rudy on either side of him. The rest of the brigade, Ackar, Lee, and Sephus, stood at attention a few paces behind them. Though it was normally difficult for Drago to see around the older, taller knights, the reason they had stopped was a man who dwarfed them all. He tucked his leather-bound book back into the duffel of rations he carried, and hastened his pace until he stood within arm's length of the rest of the knights.

The man with whom Sawyer spoke was a barefooted, heavyset man with a burning match between his teeth. His style of dress looked about as tasteful as that of the goblins they had avoided in the region thus far, though the size and set of his jaw and the teeth protruding from his lips were more comparable to an orc's.

"Treasure, ya say?" the man remarked.

Sawyer nodded. "A chamber in the mountain full of it."

"I can't say I've ever seen it meself," the man said. "But I've 'eard the same."

"Figures," the captain huffed. "No one knows for sure, but we're gonna find out."

"Well, good luck to ya," the man replied. "But stay on yer guard. There are blood orcs living in the mountain."

Sawyer nodded again. He scratched at the mess of hair near the nape of his neck before waving for the brigade to move onward. It seemed to Drago as they continued as though the captain didn't know and didn't care whether or not he was still a part of the company.

As they progressed, Drago tried not to look back at the bulky figure, but before long curiosity had gotten the better of him. The man was watching them. He hadn't moved, but when he saw Drago looking his way his mouth stretched in a splay of jagged teeth that gleamed by the light of the match. That match should have been ash by now, but it seemed as full and new as it was minutes ago. Maybe the man had struck another while they weren't watching.

Drago hastened his pace to keep up with the other knights as they crossed the bridge single-file from Dorse to Dichett. The wooden planks groaned beneath their weight, but the thrice braided rope supporting the bridge looked new, and they reached the other side without hearing the cracking of planks on the verge of breaking. The air already felt twice as hot and dry here as it was on the other side of the bridge. Drago glanced around the rocky path. The mountain appeared darker beneath its shroud of smoke, lit from below by molten rock. Some of the rocky landscape was unstable, particularly the edges in contact with and anything suspended above the free-flowing molten rock.

As they progressed towards the heart of Fire Mountain, Drago overheard Mina say to the captain, "Where do you think the dragon's hiding? In the lava, like in Teddy's fairy tales?"

"Maybe he's kidnapped a princess we'll have to rescue, too," Rudy suggested, and the knights guffawed.

"Careful what you wish for," the captain cautioned. "We don't wanna lose our little princess." He glanced back. "Isn't that right, Drago?"

Drago rolled his eyes and shook his head. Wanting to look anywhere but to the knights ahead of him, he glanced all around to see if he had missed any particular landmarks. His hands were sweating from the heat. Consequently, now was not the most opportune time to pull out his notebook and sketch their surroundings, but even if he did see anything, the landscape here had a life of its own. It was changing as the molten rock travelled and settled. Besides watching the earth melt at the edges, there was nothing to see.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was you-know-who back there," Sawyer said. "I mean, he didn't exactly look human."

Drago's attention snapped back to the brigade in front of him. In spite of the heat around them, he felt his blood run cold. The captain scoffed, and with a roll of his eyes he led the rest of them onward.

"How can you _laugh_ about it?" Drago gasped.

Sawyer flashed a grin over his shoulder at the younger knight.

"Captain, what if—"

"Get down!"

Drago dropped to the ground without a second thought, curling his arms around his head, as a large shadow swooped down upon them from behind. As it passed Drago, he saw the dragon grab for the knights head of him. Mina had the sense to move as its claws grabbed for her and Ackar beside her. But the dragon had her quiver and the other knight's throat in its grasp. Mina shimmied out of the shoulder strap of her quiver and landed without harm on the rocky path, but her weapon and the other knight were cast into the moat of lava. Drago shrank farther against the path beneath him. He was sure Sawyer was shouting some command, but all he could hear was Ackar screaming.

The captain didn't rush to Mina's aid. She looked shaken, and without her primary weapon she would surely be vulnerable, but she was already on her feet and sidling the dragon as it came back around. Drago, on the other hand, was frozen. Last time, he had been safe in the castle, and the first time well on his way there. Both times, the knights had the upper hand. Both times, though there were injuries, the knights had no casualties. This was the first dragon he had seen, and the first one to cause them any significant grief. It wasn't until the captain had grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet that he found it in himself to move.

The dragon had landed on the path before them, and its fire breath held Sephus and Lee at bay. Drago stumbled to stay afoot as Sawyer rushed to attack the dragon. Its flame would only hold as long as it exhaled, and sure enough it stopped. The captain, however, also came skidding to a stop as the dragon's tail swept in a broad arc around the beast. The other knights approached from the side as it spat flames anew at the captain.

"If you won't draw it yourself, give me your sword," said a voice beside Drago.

He glanced to its source, to Mina, and fumbled to unbuckle the strap binding the blade and scabbard to his person. Mina rolled her eyes and grabbed the blade by the hilt. She had withdrawn it and gone to join the other knights before Drago had the sense to stop trying. He stared after her, his eyes darting from her to the other knights and trying their best not to get caught staring too long at the beast they aimed to slay. The priest was somewhere just out of sight, beside or behind Drago, but he couldn't bring his gaze to stray far enough to find Rudy.

Sawyer had begun to bait the dragon. He had gotten around the back of it, though how, on the narrowing paths with that tail in the way, Drago wasn't sure. He was seeking an opening to strike from behind. When Sephus and Lee lunged to attack it from the front, the dragon spun halfway around. Its tail swept across the path, and when it hit, it sent Lee just inches from the same fate as Ackar. While Sephus grabbed Lee to keep him from falling, the dragon leapt after the captain. Sawyer scrambled back and led the dragon around as the other knights pursued. The spread of the dragon's wings, and the girth of its belly were too much for him to get back to the other side.

Drago wasn't sure as he watched if Sawyer was clever and quick enough to avoid dead ends in the path, or if the dragon wasn't leading him that way. He couldn't quite see the captain around the beast. The knights were getting father and farther from where he and Rudy watched. Mina had overtaken the bulkier knights and could graze the tip of the dragon's tail with the blade if she tried, though she was still too far to do any real damage. With the shock of the ambush waning, Drago stepped after the other knights and looked ahead to see what lay where Sawyer fled.

"Captain, no!" he cried. "Turn back!"

It took a moment more the younger knight to process what he had seen. The path beyond where the captain stood seemed to rise and fall, just a touch, as if it were detached from the rest and floating on the lava. Sawyer glanced back, sizing up the dragon behind him. When he looked ahead again, he stumbled and fell forward. The ground before him rose up as the molten rock welled beneath it, and the dragon had to take to the sky to keep from crashing into it. Without the dragon between him and the captain, Drago could see that Sawyer had fallen deliberately. He had lain on the ground, rolled to brace with his blades against those claws if should they grab at him, and now that the dragon had passed he was already back on his feet.

The captain was all right, and that was great, but the dragon was swooping back around as it had when it first came at them. It was headed straight for Drago. His knees knocked as he staggered back. The beast was gaining momentum as it dove at him. He couldn't move fast enough. Those claws gripped him by the arm, the easiest part of him for them to get a hold on, and dragged him towards the edge. He couldn't see why, but before they reached the edge of the path, the dragon had released Drago, yowling in pain.

He didn't stumble far as in the twist the dragon's tail slammed against his breastplate. Drago crashed against the path beneath him, out of breath, and unable to breathe.

* * *

><p>When next he was aware of himself, there was a ringing in his ears and a dull ache inside his skull. He sucked in a mouthful of air, as if to continue his last conscious thought, and a sharp pain filled his chest. When he reached to grope for the cause of the pain, he felt a light squeeze at his forearm.<p>

"You're awake."

Drago opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't push more than a gasp from his lips.

"Keep still," Mina scolded. "You were hit hard. Your armor buckled and did a number on everything in it, but if not for it, you'd be dead."

The young knight wasn't aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks until their trails began to prickle at his skin. Even so, the sensation was overshadowed by the ache riding on every shallow breath. He couldn't feel the heat anymore. There was darkness rather than daylight beyond his eyelids. He chanced a glance at the world around him.

Sawyer sat beside him, his eyes staring blindly forward. It was his hand grasping at Drago's arm. His wild hair was singed, and there were smudges of ash on his face and clothes. Or maybe some of it was remnants of the ink stain from back when that little light elf was visiting. The younger knight couldn't see anyone besides the captain from where he lay, and didn't dare to try.

"Rude did what he could to put you back together," Mina said. "Your nerves are still feeling it, and probably will into next week, but it's phantom pain. The real damage is healed—most of it, anyway."

"Where are we?" Drago murmured.

Sawyer's eyes flicked to his, though they wouldn't hold his gaze. "Heading home," he replied, and gave Drago's arm another squeeze. It seemed they were meant as some kind of reassurance, but whether the captain meant them for the younger knight, or for himself, Drago wasn't sure.

"Sephus and Lee, where are they?"

The silence he got was not what he had hoped for. Mina's deep sigh and the captain's aversion were enough to tell Drago he didn't want to know. His body began to shake. Though it aggravated the chest pain and headache, he couldn't make it stop.

"Captain," he said, "I don't want to fight anymore dragons."

Sawyer's gaze flicked to the younger knight. "Just two more," he assured. "You can do this."

"No!" Drago cried, though his voice was little more than a strained whisper. The shaking had grown worse. He was sure at this point the captain could feel it.

Sawyer turned fully to him, leaning over the younger knight and gingerly pawing at his cheek. "I _need_ you, Drago."

"No more dragons!"

"Keep out of the fray," the captain spat, "like you're _supposed_ to, and you won't get hurt." He drew his hand back, and the younger knight flinched as if the captain would strike him. "This isn't over yet." Rather than strike, Sawyer held his index and ring fingers out before the other knight's eyes. "Two more dragons, Drago."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

In the next chapter, Lucian returns to Radiata, where Sawyer gives him a little _friendly_ advice.


	17. Ulterior Motives

**Chapter Sixteen - Ulterior Motives**

* * *

><p>Lucian opened his eyes to a familiar ceiling, and found himself covered in familiar papery sheets. Samara was curled against his side. He shifted to get a look around, and stifled a gasp. His whole body ached at the motion. It took a moment for him to realize where he was, and recall what had happened. The battle, the elves, and a shower of light. He couldn't remember anything following that. But he was awake now, and grateful to be alive.<p>

He tried anew to sit up, and successfully propped himself on his arms. Samara was undisturbed by the motion. But, he noted, some of the beads were missing from her hair. Thankfully she was otherwise unscathed. Lucian sighed, and instead turned to inspecting his own damages. The cuts and bruises were mostly healed. There were surface scratches and yellowed skin where he had expected to see black, blood, and stitches. In spite of how thoroughly they had been tended, he could still feel how deep those wounds had been.

"Phantom pain," Lorant said. "Curative magic mends what's broken, but you'll have to get up and move for the pain to ebb."

Lucian glanced to the source of the general's voice, and found her on the bed beside his—where he had thought he might find Valko. It came as even more of a surprise for Lucian to find the small poet huddled against the wall between the beds. Gil peered up at Lucian from where he sat. He had his quill and notebook in hand again, and the inkpot uncorked on the floor beside him.

"We need to get you home, Lucian," Lorant sighed. "Before _someone_ takes it upon himself to finish you off."

Lucian gaped, but nodded. He rolled onto his side and brought his feet to hang over the edge of the bed on which he lay. He grunted as he brought them down to the floor and pushed into a stand. At once, he could feel needles everywhere inside him, and staggered to maintain his balance. Even his best effort didn't keep him from sagging against the general, so caught up in his attempt to stand that he hadn't seen her move.

Samara stirred as the bed grew chill, and glanced over her shoulder to see where Lucian had gone. He smiled ruefully at her, and she smiled back. She rolled over and sat near the edge of the bed.

"I have to get back to Radiata," he said.

Samara nodded, and the small smile on her face leveled back into a sleepy stupor.

"Lord Nogueira wants me to stay in the Forest Metropolis," Gil murmured.

Samara nodded. "I'm to take him there when I go."

Lorant eased Lucian back down on the edge of the bed beside the dark elf. They watched as she slipped from the room and back out towards the foyer. Lucian turned to Samara and cupped her cheek. Her lips claimed his before he had even leaned to her to make them available. When they pulled apart, only an inch, Lucian sighed. He rested his forehead against hers.

"Samara, it may be a while before I can see you again."

"I know," she said. "Where should I wait for you, Captain?"

Lucian shook his head. "I don't think I'm much of a captain anymore."

Samara's eyes widened. "Why not?"

"I broke a few too many rules in the knights charter," Lucian admitted. He would have pulled it from his pocket if he had a pocket to pull it from. He wasn't even sure where to look for it—or, he realized, the clothes he been wearing during the attack. Still, he smiled. "I'll see if I can contact you after we deliver our report to the commander-in-chief. The better question then is where will you wait for me?"

"Where I'll always be," the dark elf said, rolling her eyes but with a smile spreading across her cheeks.

* * *

><p>Samara had an arm around Gil's shoulders as they walked up the stairs to the second floor landing in the Forest Metropolis. They could already hear from the first floor foyer the gentle strings of Rad's guitar, and the honey-sweet sound of Hollace's voice, but no drums. Ledert was sitting out with the boys, and whether the cloud that hung over Samara and the poet only <em>seemed<em> to rain on them, too, or if they were as cheerless as she was, she wasn't sure. Hollace fell silent at the sight of them, and the strings quieted momentarily as Rad lifted his fingers in a wave.

"Are you okay?" the guitarist asked.

Samara nodded at first, the easy response, before her head began to shake of its own volition. Not wanting to go ahead without her arm around him, Gil pulled Samara forward until they were only a step from the dark elves on the landing. He slipped away, and knelt beside Ledert. The redheaded elf's eyes opened wide as the poet curled his arms around her, and for as long as she would let him he held her.

The guitar solo slowed to a stop, and before long Rad set his instrument aside. "Mama hen's brooding," he said.

A smile curled into the frown on Samara's lips. "He's worried."

Rad nodded, and smiled. "As always."

Samara nodded back, and shuffled down the hall to the band's room. She opened the door and let herself in without a knock, and the drummer inside didn't bat a lash. He was sitting at his desk with a piece of wood and a small knife in his hands, whittling something she couldn't yet identify. There was a small collection of items on the desk that she didn't recognize.

"How long have you been doing this?" she asked.

The drummer's hand slipped and he nearly cut himself at the sound of her voice. He glanced up from his work, and both the work in progress and the knife with which he crafted it fell from his grasp. He was out of his seat and striding towards her in a heartbeat, and crushed her smaller frame in embrace. She curled her arms around his back and gently patted him.

"It's okay," she said, "I'm okay."

Clay drew in and slowly released a deep breath before pulling back and holding her at arm's length. He must have been able to see the weariness in her eyes, the heaviness in her cheeks, when she looked back at him. At length, he sighed, "Is this about your human friend?"

Samara nodded, but then shook her head. "He'll be okay."

"Then what's wrong?" he asked.

"I just can't believe that Zane would do that," she murmured. She wasn't sure she wanted to say more, but he was still staring at her. She pressed her lips together and considered what to say before she simply said, "Valko's dead."

She could see the drummer's Adam's apple bob as he tried to swallow the news. The hands still holding her by the arms began to tremble and grew hotter on her skin.

"Dead?"

"That's what Lady Faunus said."

"But light elves don't die," Clay argued. "There must be some mistake."

"They're not immortal," Samara sighed.

"No, but unless it was algandars, they would transpirit his soul into another body," he insisted. "They wouldn't really leave it to wander, would they?"

* * *

><p>Lucian felt blessed to still reside within castle walls while he recovered. They had spoken with Allard the previous evening, he and Lorant—and before them Coty and the rest of the Argent Erable on the night the fort had been taken. Lorant had warned Lucian that his trespasses against the knights charter would not be overlooked, and it was only a matter of time before he would be dismissed from service, but he had plenty of time then to reflect on what he had left and what he should do next.<p>

The phantom pain, as Lorant had called it, still prickled beneath his skin. His own studies since they had returned to the castle offered a better explanation for this phenomenon. The magic used to heal him would draw energy from multiple sources. First and foremost, Heaven and earth. But it would also draw strength from the caster. And when the damage was enough, it would also steal from the wounded body's own strength. While the pain had subsided substantially, if Lucian twisted just so, he would get a sharp pang deep inside him as fresh as the original wounds.

"What are you going to do with all of this?" the general asked. She was examining the small treasures on Lucian's desk. Trivial things, mostly, and a couple accessories meant to boost ability in battle.

Lucian shook his head. "I'm not sure," he replied. "Do you know anyone who would want them?"

"You're going to get rid of them?"

Lucian nodded. Behind these was the shelf lined with his old journals. He plucked the oldest journal from the shelf and thumbed through the pages. All of it was little more than brief, lifeless recounts of the days' events. Much of it had nothing personal about it. No joy, no anger, no sorrow. He flipped through them all, and paid little mind to Lorant as she picked up and skimmed their contents when he had finished with them. The last book, not his latest journal but still recent enough that it might speak of the elves, he examined more carefully. It wasn't until the very end, but he smiled at the thoughts he had recorded about his fairy friends.

Even so, this journal wasn't the one he sought. His latest journal was still tucked away in the fort. There was little hope that he would see it again.

Lucian sighed, and gazed sidelong at the general. "What about you?"

"My position has not been threatened," she said.

"No, I mean you worked so hard to maintain positive ties with the fairy races," he mulled, "especially the light elves. Would they be severed now, and at what cost?"

"Lord Nogueira and I have been friends a long time, Lucian," she explained. "Even if the coming of war would pit us on opposite sides, he and I will always be friends." She grinned. "Though I'm not so sure about his brother. Did you see the look he shot us when I brought you to the City of Flowers."

Lucian wished to frown, but found himself instead smiling—almost laughing. His humor was short-lived, and the frown that followed overtook the smile tenfold.

"It wasn't algandars that killed Valko," he said.

Lorant nodded. "He's lucky," she stated. "I heard he spent a lot of time where the elves who do get infected lay themselves to rest. The mire there is fickle about life. It has a way of preserving things that are best forgotten."

"I wouldn't call it luck to escape infection, and then be killed by your own allies."

"Algandars is not a disease of the body," Lorant said, shaking her head. "And in any case, you misunderstood him if you really believe he and Zane were on the same side. They tolerated each other, and nothing more."

Lucian sighed. He stacked the journals neatly on his desk. "These can go. There's nothing of value in them."

"You're getting rid of everything?" the general asked.

Lucian pawed at the bracelet Samara had given him, shifting it about his wrist so that a particular row of beads sat centered on the top. "Most things," he confirmed, "not everything."

The general dropped the small collectibles and journals in the box Lucian had been filling with things. It was only half-full though the room was nearly empty of personal effects. Lucian sat down on the edge of his bed and read the most recent journal he had available until the memories it held were etched in his mind. He would fill the highlights in another journal some other time. The less he had to take, the easier it would be to go.

He was reaching into a drawer on the far side of his desk to collect his store of dagols when Lorant clutched her chest.

"General? What is it?"

She dropped to her knees beside the box, her fingers grasped at the fabric of her shirt, and her jaw clenched tightly. Her breathing was shallow. Her cheeks grew flush. It seemed whatever the illness she had had months before, the same pain was overtaking her now. Lucian knelt next to her and reached tentatively for her shoulders.

"General Lorant?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she lied. "I just need a moment." Lucian's lips pursed as if to speak, but before he found the words she added, "Finish your packing."

* * *

><p>The official letter of discharge came to Lucian early the next morning. It was insulting that the commander-in-chief wouldn't see him off personally, but of course Allard was busy with bigger problems. The light elves meant business. The fort the humans strove to build to defend them from an attack was the very thing from which they would be attacked if they couldn't dispel the tension or devise their own assault tactics. At least it had been Coty to see him off. The other captains might have had some less than pleasant commentaries about his dismissal, while the new captain of the Argent Erable was sad to see him go.<p>

Lucian had finished sorting his things and delivering them to new homes throughout the castle. He had his pack slung over his shoulders and filled with a change of clothes, his dagols, and that fairy tale about the Algandars Castle.

He headed down to the front gate where daylight spread better than torches. Sawyer's wild hair, albeit singed, was unmistakable in the hall. The menace of a captain staggered inside, half-supporting and half-carrying Drago. The young blonde was underdressed, and both of them wore smudges of ash.

"Just a little farther," the captain muttered.

Both of them had their eyes on the ground, and around Sawyer's exaggerated huffs, Lucian could hear the strain in Drago's breaths.

"Do you need a hand?" he asked.

The wild-haired captain lifted his head to glower at Lucian. This exposed the chain he wore, and now not only were there stones that glowed in green and violet light, but there was also one of red. "No, we're _fine_."

"All right," Lucian said. "Then would you like to tell me why you framed me for Cepheid's slaying?"

Sawyer stopped and stared at Lucian. A crooked smile formed on his lips. "Someone needed to put those fairy freaks into better perspective for you," he said. He adjusted his grip on the smaller knight, shrugging the smile from his features. He scowled from his hardened stare through the hunch he upheld to keep Drago afoot. "You're getting involved on the wrong side of something you don't understand."

"Those fairy freaks saved my life," Lucian coolly replied.

"Did you ask them why?" Sawyer spat. "Don't doubt they've got ulterior motives to help a gullible bastard like you."

"I've done them no ill," Lucian said. "You're the one running around killing their guardians. They have reason to hate humanity because of you."

"Say what you will," the captain scoffed. The younger knight he supported was slipping again, and this time Sawyer grabbed him up into a threshold. "At least I'm doing something about the coming of the dragons. I'm not gonna sit and wait for that prophecy to pass like everyone else."

Sawyer stepped around Lucian, much quicker now that he carried the other knight. He was gone before Lucian could say anything more, but it didn't matter. There was little else to say.

Lucian hadn't yet made it outside when his knees gave out from under him and he collapsed in the castle's entrance. The pit of his stomach turned, and the walls around him seemed to stretch, buckle, and spin. He knelt there for several minutes, taking slow, deep breaths before picking himself up and heading out. He shuddered as it crossed his mind that Lorant's illness could be contagious. Hopefully, he thought as he stood up to carry on, it was just the phantom pain leaving him weary.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Look closely. This chapter, it spoils everything. Do you see it? Do you see _all_ of it? Mwahaha~ In the next chapter, maturity is thrown out of the fort with more hair pulling, threats, and kicking.


	18. But He is the Enemy!

**Chapter Seventeen - But He is the Enemy!**

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><p>It was midday when Gil approached the fort. As he drew near the large brick surface of the lake-facing wall, he saw again the giant green maw that had been at the human meeting. He hugged his bag and the book inside it close to himself. The orc's beady eyes seemed to stare unthinking, unseeing into the far reaches of the Cuatour region. Gil wasn't sure if that was inviting or unnerving, and it didn't help that all he could think of at the memory of the meeting were the words in his notebook, <em>Lord Baade is dead<em>. So, too, was Lord Cepheid. And Valko. He glanced over his shoulder and skimmed the land around him to be sure the dark elves hadn't followed him. The last thing he wanted now was to lose them, too.

Gil was balking, treading slowly towards the entrance and wondering how to get past the green orc, especially since Lord Nogueira had told him he was to stay in the Forest Metropolis. He didn't want to be there all the time, and especially not now. He wanted to be with his kin, the light elves. He hugged the book closer and took a deep breath before stepping up to the door, beside the orc.

The beady eyes and giant maw turned his way as he reached for the door. He peered timidly at the huge figure before dashing into the fort.

It wasn't hard to find Lord Nogueira and Lady Faunus pouring over scrolls at the table along the left hand wall. Lady Vesper was with them, too, difficult to see in the radiance of the light elves' wings. Sitting at a table along the lake-side wall was a light elf about his size—Keane, if he recalled correctly. She had wares behind her, and no doubt she was pawning them off on any fool who would pay double or even triple what they were really worth. But she smiled warmly to Gil at the sight of him, and a tiny smile curled at his lips in reply. It was strange to Gil, though, that he couldn't see Zane anywhere. It seemed odd for Zane not to be there with the elf leaders.

Dismissing the thought, now that Gil was here in the fort again, he wasn't sure what to do. They were preparing for war. No one wanted to read his poetry, and he didn't want to share it anyway. No one wanted to play cards or dice games, and worst of all there was no music. Keane still seemed to be looking in Gil's direction, though it was hard to tell with how her eyes always seemed to be closed. Gil shuffled closer to the table. There were two more stools behind it.

"May I sit with you?" he asked.

The other small elf nodded, and her smile broadened. She seemed oblivious to the tension, and rightly she had not been involved in overtaking the fort. Although it was somewhat unnerving to see someone so cheerful in the midst of devastation, it was also inviting. If she could be happy in spite of it all, then so, too, could he. Gil made his way around the table, and sat on the chair at the far end of it.

He withdrew his notebook from his pack, and cracked it open to whatever page fell before him first. As if fate itself spat on the ray of sunshine he had found in the company of the covetous elf, the page open before him was that on which he had written his thoughts about the dragons. Tears stung at his eyes, already sore from the events of the last few days.

"Whatcha got there?" the narrow-eyed elf asked. She had floated to the middle stool, and was attempting to read over Gil's shoulder.

He gripped the book in his arms and hugged the open pages to his chest. "Nothing!"

The elf lords' attention turned from the scrolls lain before them to the small light elf. Gil stared back at them. He dashed around the tables and towards the sleeping quarters. Thinking a little more on it, he went past these rooms and to a strategy room in the back. It was unfinished, being used as something of a store room for the construction supplies, and a bit of a tight squeeze to get into. But that meant he couldn't be followed in there by the bigger elves. Gil curled against the wall that faced the hallway, in a corner, where he would be the most difficult to see if any of the elves in the foyer had pursued him.

He took a deep breath, and held it to a count of ten before releasing it. He could hear no one in the hall. He couldn't see their shadows against the opening, either. As the seconds turned to minutes, it was safe to assume they wouldn't pursue him. He pulled the book from his person, and by the light of his wings his eyes poured over his penmanship.

"_The poem is filled with verses about the wind, and the guardian of the elves is the wind dragon."_

"_He's the idiot who can't keep a firm enough grip on his notebook to save his life... Or yours."_

That poem. That _stupid_ poem! If he had never written it, those humans might never have known a thing about Lord Cepheid. It was his fault. As the revelation set in, he ripped the page from the book and balled it in his hands. When it was sufficiently crumpled, he screamed and threw it across the room. It bounced harmlessly from the far wall, and settled on the floor.

He tore another page from his book, the one on which he had written his thoughts about Lord Baade's death and how he felt about the dragons. This page followed the first, careening through the air and also landing there on the far side of the room. Page after page came out of the book, until he came to a poem he had written about evening blooms. They weren't the best words he had crafted, stained by that human knight's criticism. But there was also a little girl out there telling him how beautiful those flowers sounded through his words.

That was why he wrote. He wrote to capture the beauty of the world. He wrote to show people the things they couldn't see. And to someone, somewhere in Radiata, he had already succeeded. He pulled the book back against his chest and sobbed.

"Gil," Nogueira said. "Hadn't I sent you to the Forest Metropolis?"

The small elf looked up from his self-loathing, self-pitying mess, and peered at the doorway through which he had squeezed. He couldn't quite see Lord Nogueira standing there, but he could hear him just fine. The light elf leader was near. Gil could see the shadow the light elf leader cast from the wings on his back into the gloom of the unfinished room.

"Gil, come out of there," he said.

Gil buried his face in his notebook, and denied the light elf leader any response.

"Please?"

"It's my fault," Gil confessed. His words were muffled by the pages of his book, and he knew it. "It's my fault Lord Cepheid is dead." Part of him hoped that Lord Nogueira couldn't understand him.

The rustle of the mess blocking the door drew Gil's attention back to it. There was a crash as the mess was knocked back, and then shoved out of the doorway for good. Nogueira stepped inside, his head cocked to one side, and his hands clasped before him. His gaze flicked around the room, and lingered a moment on the crumpled pile of poetry.

Lord Nogueira shook his head. "It's not your fault, Gil."

"You don't understand. If I hadn't written that stupid poem—" The small elf gasped and leapt to his feet as the elf leader made his way to the pile. "No!" he cried. "Please, Lord Nogueira, don't..." The small elf clutched at Nogueira's sleeve. "Don't read it..."

The older elf's expression was guarded. He seemed to fight with the crumpled pages to unmask their secrets, but he was determined to see for those words for himself. Gil buried his face in Lord Nogueira's arm as the elder skimmed the crinkled pages.

"Gil, your poetry didn't put arms in those humans' hands," he said. "All this shows is how much you love Lord Cepheid, and how much he loves you."

Gil's heart skipped a beat. Nogueira stood with the uncurled pages piled haphazardly in his grasp, and without much effort pulled his sleeve from the poet's grasp. When the elf leader placed his hand on Gil's shoulder, the smaller elf flinched. The wind dragon had tried to protect Gil, and that monster of a captain knew he would.

"Lord Nogueira!" cried a girl's voice. "Lord Nogueira, come quickly!"

From where they stood, Gil and Nogueira couldn't see the elf approaching them, but she didn't sound the same as the squinty-eyed elf in the main foyer. Nogueira stepped quickly around Gil and back into the hallway. Gil hastily wiped the tears from his chin and darted after the light elf leader. The small elf Gil had briefly sat with was still behind her table, and watching another small elf chatter to Faunus and Vesper. Nogueira stepped into the conversation, and the girl jabbed a finger in the direction of the south entrance. Gil's mouth hung open, and terror briefly shook across his figure at the thought of another battle between the elves and the humans.

When Zane came marching in, however, he knew there was no such threat. Zane's face was set in a scowl, his hands balled into fists, and clutched within one of those fists was the dark, tangled mass he dragged behind him. "Brother, he—"

"Let him go," Lord Nogueira said.

"But..." Zane protested.

The dark mass stood hunched behind Zane, but appeared as though standing to the full of his height, it would be at least as tall as the elf who dragged it. Nogueira raised a brow at Zane, the flat line of his lips indiscernible. Zane's rage quickly settled into indignity.

The light elf leader's brother shook his head and glowered at the mass. "But he is the enemy!"

Gil stepped around Nogueira to get a better look at the anomaly, and could now see that it was the gentle captain, Lucian.

"He's alone and unarmed," Nogueira sighed.

Gil stepped towards Lucian and peered under the mess of hair.

"Don't get too close!" Zane cautioned. "He's dangerous!"

"I assure you," Lucian said, "yours is the only nose I have any intention to break."

* * *

><p>Now that the elves were aware of its existence, Nogueira flicked through the pages of the former captain's recent journal. They probably suspected Lucian of having recorded some ill-thoughts about the fairy races, or maybe some details about the attacks against the dragons. Whatever the light elf leader was looking for, he wasn't going to find it. Thankfully, Lucian was not so possessive of his words that the other man's perusal bothered him. He had nothing to hide, and, standing in the strategy room of what was now their fort, they didn't need his permission to read its contents. At least they were out of the foyer where most of the fairy creatures wouldn't pay them any mind.<p>

"I refuse to believe you've returned just for this," the light elf leader said, at last satisfied that the log bore no dark secrets. He handed the book back to Lucian, but held it firmly as the human grasped the other end of it. "Why are you here?"

Lucian's gaze flicked around Nogueira to Faunus. "I want to know what became of Valko."

The former captain wasn't the only one whose gaze had redirected to Nogueira's second in command. Faunus tucked loose hairs behind her ear, and averted their gazes.

Nogueira's tongue flicked to wet his lips. "Faunus?"

The smile that briefly graced her lips was creased with pain. She pulled her eyes from the ground, and looked directly into Lucian's. "You _are_ Valko."

Lucian's jaw dropped. For a moment, the room went still. Her words echoed in the silence.

"What have you done?" Zane hissed. He stepped forward from somewhere to one side of Lucian and grabbed at the woman's arms. "You cannot perform a transpiritation on a human! Faunus, _tell me you didn't!_"

"And leave them both to die?" Faunus shook her head, and yanked her arms from the other elf's grasp. "He's my _son_."

"But a human, Faunus! Why a human?"

As Zane lunged to grab the woman again, Nogueira stepped between them and gripped the other elf's shoulders. "Zane, enough."

"How can you be so calm?" he spat, and glared around the light elf leader. "Do you not know the gravity of such an act?"

Faunus lifted the hem of her woven grass skirt and turned such that they could see her exposed thigh. At first, Lucian had thought to look away. He found his gaze drawn, however, to a moss-like patch spread across her skin. "I know the consequences," she assured. "And it was worth it." When she was satisfied that they had seen enough of the strange growth, she dropped her hem and stalked out of the room.

Vesper rushed after her. Zane seethed as he watched them go. Only once Zane seemed to settle a bit did Nogueira left his arms to fall back to his sides.

It was later still when he said, "Brother, you should return to your post."

The light elf leader's brother conceded with a nod, though he still shook in thinly veiled rage, or maybe even in fear of that growth, and trudged back towards the south entrance.

Lucian glanced over his shoulder after Zane, and waited until the light elf was out of sight before turning back to the elf's brother. Nogueira met his gaze. For a moment, Lucian wondered if Nogueira might have a violent streak in him not unlike his brother's, and he was simply waiting for the opportune moment to strike. In the silence between them, however, only the stalemate continued.

Filling the silence, Lucian asked, "What's a transpiritation?"

Nogueira raised a brow. "You don't know?"

"Well, I've heard of it," Lucian said, "but I don't trust human-penned words to bear the truth of elven matters."

"A transpiritation, is taking the soul from one body and placing it in another," Nogueira explained. "It is as it sounds. I'm not sure how human texts would fail to express that."

"But the text says a transpiritation can only be performed on light elves."

"That's what we would like you humans to believe," the light elf leader admitted. Lucian could not discern whether or not the smile curling on the light elf's lips was genuine. "It is somewhat true. Light elf and human souls have far greater difficulty merging than those of two light elves. If the transpiritation ritual should fail, the elf soul could be lost. But even if the transpiritation is a success, there is great duress as the souls merge—sometimes ending in death." Nogueira's head hung, the smile falling along with it.

At this, a knot welled in Lucian's throat.

"And as you've seen," the light elf leader continued, "it comes at a great price to us, the light elves who perform such a transpiritation."

Lucian swallowed before that knot could grow. "That's the algandars disease?"

"Lady Faunus has algandars?"

Lucian twisted in a start. Of course Gil had been there behind him the whole time, but the small poet was so quiet Lucian had forgotten he was still around.

"Is it contagious?"

With the former captain's eyes no longer on Nogueira, he must have missed a nod. Lucian glanced back to the light elf leader, this time quick enough to see him shake his head.

"Algandars is a disease not of the body, but of the soul," Nogueira said. "It does not spread through exposure. It spreads through Tottaus itself, drawn to the surface through times and actions such as these that upset the balance of the land."

"Then we're _all_ in danger!" Gil gasped.

"That may be, but there's a way we can stop the spread," Nogueira said. He let out a sigh, and turned his gaze on Lucian. "For that, we would need your help."

"My help?" the former captain asked.

"The transpiritation was a success. You're capable of accommodating additional souls." Nogueira interlinked his fingers, pressing his thumbs together. For a moment, he seemed to study Lucian. "You would be the ideal candidate to awaken Aphelion."

"Who is Aphelion?"

"As the dragons of the elements watch over us, the elves, dwarves, goblins, and orcs, Aphelion watches over humanity."

"Aphelion is a dragon, too?"

Nogueira seemed to consider the question for a moment before nodding. "When the cosmic order, the very foundation of Tottaus, falters, the land becomes infertile. Plants wilt, trees rot, the algandars disease spreads... everything falls to ruin," he explained. "Aphelion's purpose is to reset that order so that Tottaus will thrive again."

Lucian's tongue flicked to wet his lips.

"As I'm sure it sounds, this task is not an easy one," Nogueira said, "but I believe you are capable of this. Please—not for us, but for all of Tottaus—consider it."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Sorry for all the exposition in this chapter, oh god. But clearly Nogueira isn't telling Lucian everything. ;D This is getting harder to write. I have the rest of the chapters mapped, but without them written for reference, it's hard to say if I could have done this more effectively. OTL In the next chapter, there's a petty catfight between Samara and one of the other girls, more secrets slowly making their way to the surface, and possibly the kicking that failed to happen in this chapter. xD


	19. He Started It

**Chapter Eighteen - He Started It**

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><p>Lucian awoke sore and stiff, and at first thought maybe he had aggravated any lingering phantom pain. He lifted his head from his arms to find instead that he had fallen asleep in the fort's foyer. He was still sitting on one of the stools, his arms folded atop his open journal on one of the tables. He couldn't remember even having closed his eyes. Thankfully, he seemed to be out of everyone's way. They must have gotten their fill of gawking while he slept, too, because no one in the open space was paying him any mind now.<p>

In a quick look around the room, Lucian found the small poet and the narrow-eyed elf to whom Lorant had given his knife sitting at one of the back tables. Vesper stood by the lake-side exit. Lucian didn't recognize the rest of the fairy creatures scattered around the foyer. There was no sign of Faunus, or of Nogueira and his brother. And just as well, Lucian thought, he didn't want to deal with Zane so soon after waking.

His attention turned instead to his journal, the spine creased open to the page lying flat before him.

_In the birth cry of the cosmos, _it said, _the twin eyes awake._

Those weren't his words; that wasn't his handwriting. Lucian flipped back to the page before it. He had paraphrased his conversation with Nogueira. He had also penned a few questions he wished to ask before they could escape him. That was the last thing he could remember from the previous eve. He flipped back to the following page. He recognized the verse. It was the first words of a prophecy handed down through generations of human culture, and likely also circulating among the fairy races. How did it go again? His quill was still jutting from a pot of ink within arm's reach, so he took it and penned the remainder of the prophecy.

_Above us, they shine; the world made safe for our sake._

_The forests, they flourish; the towers grow high._

_The four lights shine down; chaos withers and dies._

_But imbalance grows; forests turn dark._

_This is our doom; the tower breaks the sky._

_Here come the dragons to bring it down._

"Here come the dragons," Lucian mused. "Sawyer said something about that, too."

He set the quill in the pot of ink, and rubbed at back of his neck. His eyes skimmed the words again. He was missing something, he was sure of it, but he wasn't sure how much Nogueira would tell him if he asked. He flipped the cover of the journal shut, wondering if Gil might have the slightest idea what it was all about. He stood to stretch the stiffness and remaining traces of sleep from his person, and stepped around the table.

"Sleep well, human?" sneered a voice behind him.

Lucian sighed, but glanced over his shoulder to the light elf all the same. "I did, thanks," he replied, flashing Zane a smile.

The elf's scowl deepened in response, and with his nose in the air he turned for the Radiata-facing exit.

"Zane, hold on," he called.

The elf paused long enough to glare over his shoulder at Lucian. "What?"

The former captain wasn't sure how to respond to that tone, and perhaps should have thought things through before speaking up. But he hadn't expected the light elf to give him an ear even this far. "There's something I need to know."

"Out with it, then."

"Who is Aphelion?" Lucian asked, and immediately he regretted it. That, he already knew. There was surely a better way to extract the information he sought.

Zane continued to glare sidelong at him. "How do you know of the silver dragon?"

"Your brother," Lucian said. "What happens when Aphelion awakens?"

"The dragons restore order to Tottaus," Zane said. "That is their purpose, after all—to protect the cosmic order."

"What of the dragons who were slain?"

"They were sealed," the light elf replied. "When Aphelion is awakened, the seal will be broken, and they'll be reborn."

Lucian paused to consider this. It wasn't just the earth and wind dragons anymore. There was a third orb shining on Sawyer's chain. From that, and the damages he and the younger knight in his care had suffered, it was safe to assume the third had been the fire dragon. Zane stepped back, and had begun to turn for the Radiata-side exit.

"How do the dragons restore the order?"

Zane scoffed, "By destroying that which upsets it." He smiled wryly before turning his back to Lucian and continuing on his way.

Lucian stepped broadly around the elf and stopped in front of him. "And what's that?"

"What else?" the light elf said. "Humans."

Zane shouldered past Lucian. The former captain staggered back and stared after the light elf. He had no idea what he was thinking to do it, but he darted to the table behind which Gil and his covetous companion sat. The narrow-eyed girl beside the poet had various items arranged on display, among which were some of the knights' gear. Lucian didn't see his knife in the line up, but there was another blade there—the one Samara had given to him when they had reached the fort in the middle of the attack. Both Gil and the covetous elf had directed their attention upon him, and in the moment between reaching for and grabbing the blade, the girl had stood to try and snatch it first. Lucian was the quicker between them, and the covetous elf drew back.

Lucian glanced back to Zane. "Does it have to be me?" he shouted.

The older light elf paused and glanced over his shoulder at the former captain. "Does what have to be you?"

"Because of Valko's soul inside me, am I the only one who can awaken Aphelion?"

Zane shrugged. "It's possible."

Lucian was sure as he pulled the hunting knife from its scabbard that he had lost control of himself. Still, he couldn't bring himself even just to hesitate as his hands brought the blade to his throat of their own accord.

"No!" Gil cried. "You can't!" Without skipping a beat, the small poet was over the table, and latched onto Lucian's arm.

Lucian wasn't sure whether to feel grateful for the intervention, or furious that Gil would interrupt. He might never have the nerve again, but there was no reason for humanity to perish—and certainly not at his hands. Gil wrestled the knife from the former captain's grasp, which was an easy feat now that Lucian had the sense to let it go.

"Keane, hand me that," Zane said.

The elf leader's brother was just paces from Lucian now, too, nearer the other end of the table and with his arm extended to it for something Lucian couldn't see. He was close enough to grab Gil if he wished. Instead, Lucian saw in a glance over his shoulder, Zane retrieved a length of rope from Keane. With that in hand, he grabbed for Lucian's arm. The former captain drew back, out of reach, and that's when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. He was spun about so quickly, he staggered just to stay afoot. When he realized what had happened, he found Vesper standing before him, and his arms in the process of being bound behind him.

He didn't think twice before stomping on the dark elf elder's feet, and jerking back around to face Zane. By then, however, his arms were crudely tied. Since he couldn't make good on his word to break the light elf's nose, at least not with his fists, Lucian settled instead for kicking him in the shins. Vesper hooked her arms around him and held him still while Zane gathered energy for an attack.

"Brother, stop!"

The light elf's gaze jerked back towards the fort's Radiata-side exit, the energy building in his palm dissolving into the open air.

The light elf leader frowned at them, all of them. "What _are_ you doing?"

Zane's gaze flicked from his brother, to Lucian, and back. "He started it."

* * *

><p>Samara scowled as she and Ledert strolled past the light elf leader and his brother, who stood guard at the north, lake-facing gate of Fort Ledanesis. Zane seemed only to turn up his nose, and Lord Nogueira paid them no mind as they headed for the foyer.<p>

The mess Fort Ledanesis had become in the light elves' assault had been cleared. The foyer wasn't empty. There were a couple light elves at a table near the north gate, one of which was minding wares that she had likely gathered from around the fort, and the other was an elf Samara recognized from the battle that had driven the humans out of it. A couple dark elves were talking near the Radiata-facing exit. Samara was sure she had long before been introduced to them, but now they were only vaguely familiar. The murmurs filling Fort Ledanesis just didn't compare to the builders' banter in the days the girls had visited.

"Isn't that Clay's knife?" Ledert asked.

Samara glanced to what Ledert had discovered. There it was, jutting from a scabbard of leather and wood foreign among the human steel, in the midst of the wares that covetous light elf had collected. Ledert grabbed for the knife, and at that the light elf bent over the table and shielded her wares.

"I found them," the light elf said, turning her nose up like Zane had to the dark elves, "so they're mine."

"I don't care about the stupid human steel," Ledert argued, and lunged past the other girl's stance to grab the drummer's knife, "but that one's ours!"

"You weren't even here when we took over the fort."

Samara slammed her palms on the tabletop, clenching her teeth to keep from crying out at the sting of the impact. She glared at the light elf. "Neither were you."

"How do _you_ know?"

"Because you're no soldier," Samara replied. "You're just a thief. People _died_ here, and all you think about is how you can profit from it."

"Hey!" the light elf cried. "You take that back!"

"Keane," called the light elf beside their covetous opposition, "just give them the knife."

"But—"

In the distraction, Ledert snatched the knife from beneath the now named light elf's guard. The redhead smiled sweetly, spun on her heel, and strolled towards the sleeping quarters. Samara grinned when she realized what had happened while the covetous light elf before her glowered after the other dark elf, and soon after both of them as Samara followed Ledert. Thankfully, the other light elf behind the table seemed bent on keeping Keane in line, and the girls were left to their own devices.

The sleeping quarters were filled with creatures of all the fairy races. Things had progressed since Samara had left, and she and Ledert waded uneasily through the center of the room. The only familiar face they passed was that of Lady Vesper. The rest of the elves, and the few dwarves, hadn't been here the last time Samara had been. Samara frowned as she and the redhead crept onward. Tucked between the bed on which Vesper lay and the bed beside it was a pack Samara had seen before. As Ledert continued deeper through the rows of beds, Samara slipped between the beds and grabbed for the pack.

She pulled the buckles apart and picked through its contents. There were dagols, a journal, and a certain well-known fairy tale that a certain former captain had read to her. The light elves' wings drowned the darker corners of the room, but still she stood and skimmed the beds. Even as her eyes adjusted to the different degrees of light, she could not see a single human. That bag, however, she was sure had not been here while the men were building the fort.

"What are you doing?"

Samara froze. It wasn't until she realized it was only Ledert who had spoken that she relaxed enough to glance to the other dark elf. "These are Lucian's things," she said. She buckled the pack shut again and slung it over her shoulders. "He's here. He has to be here."

"Oh," Ledert muttered, "well, that's great, because Gil isn't."

Samara sighed. Of course they would come all this way, risk waltzing headlong into another battle, and not find the person they were looking for. But Samara continued to search the fort anyway. It might not have been likely, but it certainly seemed possible that Lucian was there. And if he was, she would find him. Ledert trudged after Samara as the blonde first glanced out into the foyer to see if maybe she had missed anything obvious, and then proceeded to the unfinished meeting room past the sleeping quarters.

Samara stopped in the doorway, staggering forward only when the other dark elf behind her failed to note as much and walked into her. She had found the face she sought. Lucian was propped in the corner, his arms behind his back. His eyelids rested, though Samara wasn't sure how he could possibly be sleeping in a position like that. The girls shuffled to his side, at which the human stirred.

"You're awake," Samara noted. "What are you doing here? I thought you went back to Radiata."

"I did," he said. "But I figured I should give Lady Faunus proper thanks for mending my wounds, so I came back."

Samara grinned, and threw her arms around him. When he failed to return the embrace, however, she left her hands to trace his arms. At his wrists, she came upon the source of the problem. "Why?" she asked, her fingers studying the texture of the rope. "Why did they—?"

"I'll explain later," he said. "Can you help me?"

"Free you?"

Even before he nodded, Samara looked from him to Ledert. The redhead relinquished Clay's knife to Samara, and the human leaned forward so she could cut him loose.

"Lucian, what's going on?"

The former captain slipped out from beneath Samara to stand, and then pulled her to her feet as well. He hugged her tightly, and told her, "I need you to look out the south gate, and tell me who's standing guard."

Samara nodded. She wasted no time complying with his request, paying no mind to whether or not Ledert followed her as she made her way through the foyer and past the walls of the fort. It didn't occur to her until after she had set foot outside that perhaps she should have approached the task stealthily. But then, the watchful eyes in the foyer might have thought her silly for trying.

"Hi," the poet greeted.

"Gil!" Samara exclaimed.

She found the small light elf to one side of the gate, putting on a smile for her. Beyond him sat Faunus, leaning against the south face of the fort and staring up at the stars.

"Me and Samara came to bring you back home with us," Ledert said. Evidently she had followed.

Gil's smile fell. "I'm sorry, but..." He glanced back to the elder light elf. "I want to stay with Lady Faunus—just a little longer."

Samara's breath hitched. She felt a pang of guilt for having come so far to collect the small light elf without considering why he had come back to the fort in the first place. She didn't doubt Faunus needed the support. She glanced back to Ledert, who still seemed to be looking to the poet before them.

"He'll be sent back when things get dangerous," Faunus said, and then smiled, "if he hasn't rejoined you already."

Gil nodded eagerly. It seemed to brighten his spirits, too, to see the elder light elf in good humor. With a wave, Samara turned back inside.

When she had returned to Lucian in the unfinished meeting room, he bent over her, his mouth briefly molding to hers. Samara leaned into the contact. Her lips parted for more. She rolled from her heels to her toes, however, as he pulled back. Even on their very tips, she wasn't tall enough to reach him at the full of his height. She folded her arms across her chest and frowned. Lucian chuckled.

"Lady Faunus and Gil are at the gate," she said. "Why did you need to know?"

"The light elves expect something of me that I can't do," he explained. "I need to get back to Radiata. There are people I need to talk to, things I need to know, and I won't get any answers here."

"What do they want from you?"

"I'll tell you everything when I understand enough of it," he replied, at which Samara's cheeks bunched in a scowl. He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Samara. When I figure it out, I'll come for you. But until then, stay in the Forest Metropolis—don't come back here."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

In the next chapter, Lucian makes a big mistake. And that is all I'm going to say since I haven't written it yet~ OTL


	20. I'm Not Finished With You Yet

**Chapter Nineteen - I'm Not Finished With You Yet**

* * *

><p>Coty leaned against the frame of the north gate which overlooked the Cuatour region. It was hard to see it from here, shrouded by hills, trees, and the haze of distance, but out there was the fort they had worked so long and hard to build. He gritted his teeth and tilted the tip of his spear in the direction of it. Right now, that fort was crawling with light elves. In light of the danger so near the human city, the newly appointed captain was stationed there, at the north gate guard shack, with the rest of his brigade.<p>

Emilia was still with him, standing beside him, while the rest of the brigade was inside the shack. She had been unusually quiet since Coty's promotion. He stepped around to face her, flashing a grin, and she smiled back. There was no more cheeky banter, no more petty squabbles, and he kinda missed it. He could never quite make it to sergeant of his own squad in the warrior guild, but the lot of loud-mouthed, drunken buffoons was a lot more fun than this.

The new captain laid his head back against the frame of the gate, staring bleakly to the far end of it.

"Coty, look!" Emilia said. He glanced to her, to find her pointing around him. "Oh, sorry," she amended, the tips of her fingers covering her mouth as if in shame, "Captain."

Coty rolled his eyes, disappointed that what could have been snide sounded sincere, and turned to what she had seen. Heading towards the city from the Cuatour region was Lucian. "Hey!" Coty cried. He swung his hand in the air in a gesture vaguely resembling a wave. "What are you doing out here?"

The former captain said nothing until he was just few feet away. "Coty," he breathed. Lucian cupped the new captain's cheeks in his palms, and advanced until they stood nearly chest-to-chest with one another.

Coty stood unmoving, and frowned at the taller man. "Lucian?"

Lucian released the brigade's new captain and stepped back, quickly averting his gaze. Emilia was giggling.

"What?" Coty huffed.

Her stare training on the former captain, she replied, "It looked like you were gonna kiss."

Behind the Lucian's veil of hair, his cheeks were scarlet. But he wasn't denying it. Coty eyed the taller man, though following that misstep Lucian had become averse to eye contact.

"Coty, was there something between you and Valko?" the former captain asked.

At that, Coty felt color creep across his own face. No one seemed to notice, or at the very least didn't mention it, so he settled for asking, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Valko's soul is inside me," Lucian replied.

Coty and Emilia glanced to each other, and then stared at their former captain for a long while before the new captain said, "Good one." He clapped a hand on Lucian's arm. "You almost had me there."

"I mean it," the taller man insisted. "After the assault on the fort, to save my life and his, Faunus transpirited his soul into my body."

Coty's mouth hung open. His jaw only twitched in his attempts to snap it shut again, and he could feel the flush in his cheeks grow deep.

"Do you know where can I find Sawyer?" Lucian asked. "I mean, you hang out with him sometimes, right?"

"I haven't seen him since he quit the knights—"

"He quit?"

Coty nodded, the color settling from his features as the subject shifted. "Well, maybe not. He still reports to the commander-in-chief," the new captain replied. "But they left the castle after they killed the wind dragon and screwed us all over." Coty tapped his toes on the ground before turning to look east. He tilted his lance in lieu of pointing vaguely in that direction. "When he's not clubbing, he hangs around the magic school. Ask Professor Weissheit where to look. He'll know."

"All right," Lucian said. "Thank you."

Before turning to leave, the former captain bent over Coty and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Scarlet flooded back into the new captain's face tenfold. Behind him, he could hear muffled sniggers. He didn't dare glance back until the flush had waned, and by then Emilia had retreated to the shack—where she could laugh at his expense without doing it in his face. Yeah, he definitely liked being her equal more than her superior. Rolling his eyes, Coty turned his attention back to the region beyond the city.

"I didn't know he was sweet on you, Cotes," came a voice behind him.

A pair of hands rested on his shoulder, and soon after he could feel the breath of the person attached to them on his ear. Coty glanced to the face so near his.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he replied.

"Oh, please," Mina snickered. "I know better than to date guys like him."

Coty grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing," she said. "I just saw your old captain hanging around and figured I'd come and see what's up."

The new captain sighed. Her smile was a courtesy, a shield to mask her inquisitive stare. There was a lot more than nothing up, but it was probably best not to press it. "Lucian's looking for Sawyer," he replied. "Sounds like a bad idea to me."

Mina nodded. "The bastard's not in the best mood, either," she said. "Our friends at The Black Cat haven't found the last orb yet, and until then we can't go after the water dragon."

"Why do you even bother?"

"What?"

"With the dragons?" Coty said. "The elves were already furious with us—now they're out for blood."

"Here come the dragons to bring it down," Mina sighed. "They're gonna destroy the city. They'll kill us all if we don't go after them first."

Coty crossed his arms, and blew a few loose strands of hair from his face. "It's just poetry."

"It's not just poetry," she insisted, setting one of her hands on her hip. "It's a prophecy. It's come to pass before, and it's about to pass again."

"Is that the poison he's feeding you to get you to tag along on his dragon hunt?"

"Look," Mina said, "I do think chasing dragons is a waste of time. Sooner or later, Sawyer's going to get himself killed." She glanced in the direction that Coty had sent his former captain. "But just between us, Cotes, this is a very real threat."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"I'm surprised you don't already know," she huffed. "The light elf who told us seemed to like you a great deal."

"A light elf told you that?"

"Yeah, the one who saved your ass at the fort," Mina said, "and helped us kill the wind dragon."

* * *

><p>Lucian watched the street signs while he walked. He passed an assortment of buildings, some of them missing screens, shingles, and siding, and others with boards over the windows and holes in the walls. This was a neighborhood he never visited. It was beyond Oriel's jewelry shop, and he could skirt it to reach the north gate. He was no longer dressed the part of a nobleman, and he had left behind the leaf cloth Samara had forced on him, so he was grateful to fit in with the everymen he passed as he went.<p>

"Lucian."

He swung back around to face the voice. The woman was dressed down in a dusty, short-sleeved shirt and loose-fitting slacks, and she had a small pack slung over one shoulder. It took a moment for him to recognize the face behind her tousled hair. "Lorant," he replied.

"I never thought I'd see you this side of the city."

"With all due respect, general, I could say the same."

The woman smiled in spite of herself. "Someone has to keep this lot in line."

She sidled Lucian and strolled onward, apparently headed in the same direction as he was. Lucian hesitated at first to walk with her. She was close to the elves, he mused. Maybe she would know something of his predicament. He shuffled after her.

"I thought you were headed out of the city to settle off in the country somewhere," Lorant said, "somewhere you and your lady could live together in peace."

Lucian paused mid-step and looked to the general. He hadn't thought that far ahead, but he repeated the thought in his mind so he wouldn't forget it.

"Why are you here, in the underbelly of Radiata?"

Lucian's lips pursed, his reverie interrupted. He looked past the general, right over her. Ahead of them, if he continued for long enough, he would reach the magic school. Rather than skirting the area to stay safe, however, he walked through it in the hopes that he would find the club Sawyer frequented. If he could have his way, the silver dragon would not awaken. He was content to avoid the subject entirely, but he couldn't do it forever. He balled his hands into fists and asked, "What do you know about Aphelion?"

The general froze before him. Lucian slipped nearer and stepped around her to meet her eye-to-eye. All that moved of her were her eyes, following his. "You know of Aphelion."

"Only what Nogueira and Zane have told me," Lucian replied.

"Why?" she demanded. She gripped his forearms. "Why would they tell you?"

"Nogueira believes Aphelion must be awakened," he said, "and that I should be the one to do it."

"Because of Valko's soul inside you."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew," she replied. "Faunus would not have defended you after the battle otherwise."

"When Aphelion is awakened, will he really destroy humanity?"

Lorant's grip tightened. She regarded him without humor, without any expression at all. The line of her mouth seemed neither to smile nor frown, her brow was not creased with anger or concern, but her eyes still searched his. Lucian pulled his arms back to his sides, easing them from her hold, and he was grateful that she allowed him to do so.

"If Aphelion is not awakened, and humanity continues to thrive without interruption, they will exhaust the resources of the land."

"What about the fairy races?" Lucian asked. "They use the same resources we do. Shouldn't the dragons pursue us all without prejudice?"

"The fairy races live in harmony with the land. Humans manipulate it, abuse it, and suppress that natural order," she said, gesturing broadly to the variety of buildings around them. "Although it's not easy to believe, especially from a human perspective, the dragons do only what is best for the world."

Lucian glanced around the general. He looked to all the run down homes, the shady businesses, and to the full height of the castle in the distance. "General, what should I do?"

"Whether by you or by another, the light elves will find a way to awaken Aphelion, and the dragons will come," she replied. She stepped around him, and continued her travel. "But I believe this is your destiny. Who knows—maybe your compassion will rub off on the dragon."

Lucian glanced over his shoulder to her. She was still headed in the same direction as he was, so he made his way after her. While they walked, he watched for the club he sought, but he couldn't see any signs posted for it, or any other indication of where it might be. Ultimately, he continued with the general through the dank corner of town and into rows of newer—or at least better kept—buildings.

They walked together as far as the magic school, neither of them speaking anymore on the subject. He stopped as near as their course would take him to the entrance, where they would have to part. Lorant noticed quickly that she no longer had company in her shadow, and glanced back to him. Lucian waved, and she nodded in reply before continuing her trek. For a moment, Lucian watched her go. There was more he ought to ask, he was sure of it, but he didn't know where to begin, and the general seemed pressed for time. He couldn't bring himself to bother her further.

He was already here, at the magic school, and there was someone he needed to see. Without further ado, he started for the door. As Lucian moved, his hair hung taut behind him. He turned back to see on what it had snared.

Mina smiled. With his attention directed to her, she let the strands of his hair fall through her fingers. She seemed to watch something behind him as she said, "Cotes tells me you wanna see Sawyer."

"Where can I find him?" Lucian asked.

The woman clasped her hands together behind her back, and strolled back in the direction from which they had come. "You would have found him here if you hung around for a few hours," she replied. "But he's at The Black Cat right now."

Lucian stepped after her. "Would you help me find my way there?"

"Why do you think I followed you?" She grinned back at him over her shoulder, but again her focus shifted somewhere beyond him.

In spite of his long legs, Lucian had some difficulty keeping up with Mina as she walked. Her steps weren't just quick, they were fluid. He wasn't sure why she had adjusted her clip, but didn't question it. When they had returned nearly to the heart of the worst part of town, she ducked into an alley and bid him to follow. The community built into the alley looked twice as dingy as the buildings along the main road, but he did as she beckoned. She slipped in through the back door of one of the bigger buildings.

"This is it," she said, "The Black Cat."

Having stepped out of the bright afternoon sky and into the dimly lit building, it took several moments for his eyes to adjust. There were a few patrons nursing drinks along the bar, and a phonograph playing behind the counter, but without the night life and live entertainment Coty had told him stories about, the place was quiet. Mina continued ahead of him, directing his attention to the wild-haired man on his feet and hunched over his table. Lucian made his way after her.

"Hey," she called, "you have company."

Sawyer's attention snapped to them at the sound of her voice. Though he grinned to her, his face bunched in a scowl when he discovered whom she had in tow. Lucian drew his arm back, his fingers curling into a fist, and threw it against the man's face.

Sawyer staggered back as he fought to stay afoot. "What was that for?" he hissed, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt Gil!"

"What?"

"When we attacked Cepheid, you promised me Gil would be safe!" Lucian stepped after Sawyer, reaching to grab the collar of the other man's coat. "You tried to kill him anyway—_why?_"

Beside Lucian, Mina had folded her arms and leaned against the edge of the table. Her lips had curled in some sadistic smirk. Sawyer said nothing. As the silence drew out, his expression seemed to soften just a bit. And then he tore free from Lucian's grasp and struck him in the gut. As Lucian recoiled, the wild-haired man dropped low to the ground and swept beneath his feet. Lucian lost his footing, and came crashing down.

"I don't know how you know about that," Sawyer spat, "but that has nothing to do with you."

Lucian supported himself on one of his arms while the other held his stomach where he had been hit. He glared up at the Sawyer. Before he could stand again, the other man kicked his support arm back from the ground and stood over him.

"Stay there, I'm not finished with you yet," he said. "What the hell do you want?"

Lucian folded his arms across his stomach, but complied. "I want to know what you know about the dragons."

"If those dragons didn't exist, the prophecy would mean nothing. We would be safe."

"Why do you care about the fate of all of humanity?"

"I don't," the wild-haired man admitted, flashing his wolfish grin. He pulled off his chain, popped open a locket hanging on it between the orbs, and dropped it in Lucian's lap. "I care about _her_."

Lucian collected the chain and examined the photographed face cropped to fit the silver disc. It was face with bright eyes and a ribbon in her hair staring up at Lucian in the orbs' colorful glow. He peered at the other man as Sawyer bent over him to snatch back the chain. "Couldn't you just take her and leave Radiata?"

"This is our home." Mina said.

"How can we be sure we'd be safe outside the city?" Sawyer added. He pulled the chain back around his neck and tucked it beneath the lapel of his coat. "We can't run from this. We have to face it."

Mina's toes nudged Lucian's thigh. He glanced to her, and she extended her hand. Sawyer folded his arms and scowled at the woman. Lucian watched the other man closely as he took the proffered hand. No ill besides that scowl came his way, and he was relieved to be on his feet again.

"What do you plan to do?" Lucian asked.

"When we have the last orb," Mina said, "we'll track down the water dragon. We already know where to find the gold dragon, but—"

"Shut up, Mina!" Sawyer spat. "We can't trust him."

"Gold dragon?"

Sawyer shook his head, and glared at Mina. "There aren't four dragons," he muttered, "there are six. But most people don't know about the other two—the silver and gold dragons, the 'twin eyes' of the prophecy."

"I know of the silver dragon," Lucian said, "but they never mentioned the gold dragon."

"Who's they?"

"The light elves," Lucian replied. "They mean to awaken the silver dragon."

Sawyer and Mina both seemed to study him for a moment before the wild-haired man asked, "You're sure?"

Lucian nodded.

"Why would they tell you that?"

"They want me to do it."

Sawyer's lips twisted. Not into a smirk or a grin, but a crooked smile. "You're the vessel?"

Lucian nodded again.

"Well, that's convenient," the other man replied, and that unsettling smile broadened. "What else did they tell you?"

"Nothing," Lucian said. "They said as little as they could, and never mentioned the gold dragon at all."

"Of course they didn't," Sawyer said, "because the gold dragon is General Lorant."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

In the next chapter, Hollace has disappeared from the Forest Metropolis, and the Fer Lierre have a snowball fight.


	21. Let's All Go to a Fairy Tale Castle

**Chapter Twenty - Let's All Go to a Fairy Tale Castle**

* * *

><p>In the corner of her eye, Samara saw Lady Vesper heading upstairs. The blonde elf looked to the redhead beside her to see if Ledert had seen the elder, too, but the other dark elf's nose was buried in the story of the Algandars Castle, commandeered from Lucian's belongings. She looked instead to the small dark elf on the other side of her. Hollace was busy scrawling words she didn't dare read, and it seemed that he also hadn't noticed the dark elf elder's return.<p>

Samara turned her attention away from the other two elves and resumed stringing beads as though she watching for activity ahead of them. Just a moment later, Vesper returned from upstairs and joined them at their usual place on the landing. Samara lowered her bead crafting, and Ledert peered around the edge of the book in her hands. Vesper stood with her arms folded her chest.

"Hollace," she beckoned.

Samara glanced to the small elf again. He glared at the elder for the intrusion, and finished writing his piece before giving her any further attention. The elder didn't fuss or fidget, she was used to Hollace's resistance. Soon after, he tucked the graphite stick between the pages of his notebook, stood, and stretched. Vesper returned upstairs, and the small dark elf obediently followed.

"What do you think she wants?" Samara asked.

Ledert shrugged. "She probably just wants something from the Sediche region."

"You don't think she would try and recruit the black goblins for... you know, do you?"

"The black goblins are lazy homebodies, and humans don't fare well in the north," Ledert replied. "It'd be a waste of effort."

Samara nodded.

The redhead buried her nose back in the old storybook, and Samara resumed her bead stringing. It wasn't long before Hollace rejoined them on the second floor landing, but he didn't sit back down with them. Instead, he dropped his notebook between the girls. When Samara glanced up to see what was going on, Hollace had turned his back to them, and he was heading towards the first floor foyer. Vesper was already on her way downstairs ahead of him. The small elf stuck out his hand in a sort of wave, but said nothing. Just like that, he and the elder were gone. The girls looked to each other, shrugged, and Ledert seemed to think nothing more of it.

Samara set her beads in their box, put it aside, and got up to follow. She wasn't going to go with Vesper, of course, but she was had to know where the dark elf elder and the band's vocalist were headed. Hollace was walking out the door, and Vesper was speaking with another dark elf. There was someone with long, black hair standing with them, and Samara recognized those locks immediately. She raced the rest of the way down the stairs, and snared the former captain in her arms.

She had no idea the conversation she had interrupted, but it failed to continue once she stood among them. Vesper was regarding her sternly, her arms still crossed before her, and a scowl on her lips. But Lucian blue eyes danced at the sight of Samara. She smiled to him.

"He was found nearby," Vesper said, a wry smile deforming the scowl molded to her features. Her attention turned from Samara back upon the former captain. "This is only temporary. Is that clear?"

Lucian nodded. "I have no intention to linger."

"And keep out of affairs that no longer concern you."

"Yes ma'am," Lucian said.

Though Vesper seemed to take Lucian's smile for genuine, and led the other dark elf in their company away from where Lucian and Samara stood, Samara was sure there was a touch of sarcasm tainting it. She didn't inquire, and Lucian was content not to suggest that he had, in fact, been insincere. Samara led Lucian upstairs to the landing.

Clay had overtaken Samara's place beside Ledert. He was thumbing through the pages of Hollace's notebook, skimming the ideas fresh on the page. As far as Samara knew, that wasn't uncommon. Clay would rewrite Hollace's ideas, and add his own, and Radley would do the same if he were as inclined to lyrics as the other two. Radley, however, was content with just the soft reverberations of his strings and didn't give a thought about the rest of the music. The guitarist had also not yet made an appearance.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Samara called.

She stopped before him, her feet standing between his legs, and beamed. The drummer's gaze lifted slowly to hers, his expression flat—at least for a moment. When he caught sight of the man behind her, he scowled.

"What's he doing here?"

"I came to—"

"Where's Rad?" Samara asked, kneeling before the drummer to look at him face-to-face. "Is he still in bed?"

Clay's attention turned back to the pages before him. He seemed to have let the subject go, and Lucian seemed to get the hint just not to give the drummer any reason to support his apprehension around the former captain.

Clay sighed. "Some nightmare's got him spooked, so he didn't wanna go to bed last night."

"Well, that's no fun," Samara said. "It's too quiet out here."

"Make your own music."

Samara frowned. "But you're the musician."

Though neither Vesper nor Clay seemed especially inviting from what little interaction Samara had seen, Lucian still took the initiative to sit. There was space between him and the drummer, more than enough for Samara to get comfortable between them, and she did just that.

Facing the stairs down to the foyer, she saw before them dark elves filing from the foyer to the room upstairs. Maybe a dozen elves, she counted. The last of them was Lady Vesper.

"It's a war meeting," Lucian murmured, confirming what Samara wished she hadn't gleaned.

"I'm surprised she hasn't tried to recruit us," Clay said.

"You're a band, not warriors," Samara huffed. "Holly's the only one of you who can fight worth a damn."

"Samara." The drummer was leveling that stern glare on her.

She crossed her arms, and glared back at him. "What? It's true."

"Is he upstairs?" Clay asked.

Samara's indignity dropped. She had expected more resistance than that. Clay was better-sculpted than the other two performers. Though he had the power, however, he lacked the nerve. Samara shook her head, and glanced ahead of them to the stairs that led to the foyer. "He went out," Samara replied.

Clay seemed to consider this for a moment, and then sighed. "Good."

As the tension of the subject settled, Samara realized they had a bit of an audience in Ledert. Not that she would have gone unhearing, lying next to Clay as she was with her feet on the wall. But she had laid the book on her belly and briefly given the conversation the full of her attention. As Ledert lifted the book again, Samara sheepishly turned to Lucian.

"I let her borrow your book," she informed him. "I hope that's okay."

Lucian smiled. "Books are meant to be shared," he said. "And that one belongs to the castle library. I doubt they'll be seeing it again."

"You stole it?" the redhead asked, peering around the edge of the tale.

The former captain attempted to suppress the smile, but it only grew as he confessed, "I might have." In spite of his humor, however, his brow furrowed.

Samara curled her arms around his, and watched as the humor drained completely from his visage. The rest of him seemed quite listless, too. "Lucian?" She tugged at the arm in her grasp until he looked her way. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"I don't think it would be appropriate to speak of it here," Lucian said. He glanced around Samara, to the drummer on the other side of her.

Samara turned back, too, to see the look Clay had returned the former captain. The dark elf eyed the human suspiciously, but his expression was no more surly than usual. His attention flicked briefly to Samara before he laid his head back against the wall. "Don't let _me_ stop you."

"I need to go somewhere that neither humans nor the fairy races would think to look for me for a while," Lucian said.

"Like the Algandars Castle," Ledert suggested.

"Great idea, Ladybird," Clay said, "let's all go to a fairy tale castle."

"It's not a fairy tale," Ledert huffed. "It's a true story."

"How would you know?"

"Valko said so. Lord Nogueira and Lady Faunus were friends with the elf king of the story," she stated, grinning broadly from where she lay. "And whether or not they would think to look there, the light elves won't wanna visit the place that's supposed to be the origin of the algandars disease."

"Lucian, what do you think?" Samara glanced back to the former captain.

"I think he needs a doctor," Clay replied.

Samara's mouth hung open. The color had drained from the former captain's features. He was already pale-skinned, but now he looked something like a ghost.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

She removed her arms from his and knelt astride his legs. She grabbed instead for his face. The former captain's eyelids hung half-closed. He seemed not to see her, not to see anything. She lifted his face to get a better look at him. Even the tears in the corners of his eyes could not mask the anomaly. Lucian's eyes weren't blue anymore. They were green. Even the scleras were green.

"Lucian?"

Clay gripped at Samara's shoulder. "Give him some space."

She leaned back, sitting on her ankles, and in the corner of her eyes could see Clay looking over the former captain. He must have noted the anomaly, too, as he held Samara somewhat to one side and leaned closer himself.

"Valko?" Clay murmured.

Lucian's attention snapped to the drummer. The tears fell from those bright, green eyes.

Clay gasped. "You're alive."

The enchantment faded. As those eyes became blue once more, the former captain sagged against the wall behind him.

"Samara, move," Clay said.

She hesitated just a moment longer before scooting out of Lucian's lap. The drummer crouched beside them, grasped the former captain's person, and lifted the man into his arms. It looked awkward for Clay to hold someone so tall, but he must have been used to that. Radley was about as tall as Lucian was. Samara stood after him, and when the drummer carried Lucian towards the girls' room, she skipped ahead and opened the door for him.

"I'm putting him in a guest room," Clay stated.

"We have an extra bed," Samara said. She leaned against the door to keep it open and gestured inside.

"He's not staying in your room," Clay rebutted. "You didn't even ask Ledert if she minds."

"I'm okay with that," Ledert said. She had laid the book on her stomach again, and was watching them from her cozy spot on the floor. "Don't worry, Mama Hen, I'll keep them in line."

Clay rolled his eyes, but he couldn't argue with that. He shuffled inside, careful not to bang the former captain's head on the door frame, and laid him in the single bed opposite the girls' bunks. Ledert rolled onto her side and got up to follow them, and Samara left the door gaping for the other dark elf as she made her way to Lucian and Clay.

"I don't understand," she said. "What happened?"

"He has the soul of a light elf in him," Clay said. "I didn't even know they _could_ perform a transpiritation on a human."

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"He'll be fine."

Even unconscious, however, the former captain's breathing had grown ragged. A sheen of sweat had begun to coat his brow. Clay stepped out of the room. Once he was gone, Samara reached for Lucian's hair, pulled it off of the ground, and tucked it in bed beside him. She settled on the edge of the bed, her weight supported more by the frame than the mattress, and watched his chest successively rise and fall. Across the room, Ledert did the same, dropping into her own bed. She and Samara exchanged a glance before the redhead buried her nose back in the book.

It was still until Clay returned. In the drummer's hands were a basin of water and a cloth. He set the basin down on the girls' dresser. Samara pulled the cloth from his arm before he had even let go of the basin. She wet it, and laid it across the former captain's forehead.

Rad shuffled into the room after Clay, and paused only a step inside the doorway. He glanced around the room. He seemed not to see them, at least not clearly. His vision must have still been clouded by slumber. Still, he looked to everyone in the room in turn. The guitarist paused, ran a hand through his matted mohawk, and scratched at the back of his neck before trying anew.

"Morning, Rad," Ledert greeted.

The guitarist's eyes lit up at the mention of his name, and he smiled. The smile didn't last, falling before his eyes had even fallen upon Lucian. He seemed not to notice the human at all.

"Where's Holly?" he asked.

"He went out," Samara replied, "probably on some errand for Lady Vesper."

"Is she upstairs?"

"She's in a meeting, Radley," Clay said. "You can ask her later."

Rad shook his head. His doe eyes were open wide now, no trace of grogginess remaining. He spun on his heel and rushed back out of the room before anyone could say anything more. Clay rolled his eyes, and then buried his face in his palm. They all watched the door for a moment before turning their attention back to their own business. Ledert resumed reading as Samara did watching Lucian.

Clay wrapped his arms around Samara's shoulders, resting his head on hers. "I wouldn't worry too much about him," the drummer said. "Just don't let Lady Vesper kick him out before he's recovered."

Samara pawed gingerly at Clay's arms. "I won't."

They heard Rad's footsteps fast approaching and turned back to the door.

"Mama Hen, I need you to come with me."

"Where?" the drummer asked.

Rad's face stretched in something like a grin, good humor on the surface, but the shallow cheer didn't hold. "Please?"

"Maybe after lunch," Clay replied, leveling his cool stare on the guitarist. "I'm not going anywhere right now."

Rad frowned outright. His fingers curled and uncurled. And when he redirected his gaze to the floor it was as if to hide tears. "I'm not going without you."

* * *

><p>"Drago, heads up!"<p>

The blonde knight looked to the rest of the small company, trailing well behind them as usual, and got a snowball to the face. While he staggered to stay afoot amidst the powder and ice, the captain laughed. Drago bent over the snow, scooped it into a ball of his own, and launched it back. Sawyer sidestepped, as if he knew what was coming. Instead of the captain, the snow burst against the priest's shoulder. Rudy leveled a glare at them both.

"Sorry, Rudy!" Drago cried.

The captain only laughed harder—at least until Mina claimed sweet vengeance, covering him in armfuls of loose powder.

"We're not here for fun and games," the priest said, brushing the snow from his back. "We're here to find the water dragon."

Sawyer slung an arm around Rudy's shoulders. "Lighten up, Rude," he replied. "A little fun never hurt nobody."

Drago said nothing for fear of spoiling the moment. But as he wiped his face on the back of his sleeve, he was disinclined to agree. That snowball was packed as tightly as the loose powder was going to get, and it most certainly _did_ hurt. He could also feel goose bumps where he had been struck. Their leggings and the thick cotton of their long-sleeved shirts had been too much in the city, and fair (though still a bit warm) as they had passed through the Nowem region. Now that they were here, wandering the Sediche region in search of a dragon whom they couldn't find elsewhere in the world, their gear was not nearly enough.

Rudy leaned into Sawyer's hold, turning his head to meet the captain eye-to-eye. "I'm not sure we've met," the priest said. "Because I don't recall our Sawyer ever being so... chipper."

"Well, let's see," Sawyer mulled. "We have the last orb, we know where to find the gold dragon, and we know the vessel for the silver dragon." The captain's grin spread, and Drago saw in it nothing but the teeth of a predator just before it pounces its prey. "The only thing left is to figure out where the water dragon's hiding."

While Drago's attention was on Sawyer, Mina had made her way back to him. "Liar," she said, "you're just enjoying the snow." She stepped behind the blonde knight, set her hands on his back, and steered him onwards. "For all we know, the water dragon isn't even here."

"No, he's here," Sawyer assured. How quickly his cheer melted back into the moody, scowling monster everyone knew him to be sent shivers up Drago's spine. "He has to be here. The guys looked everywhere else trying to find the damned orb."

"Except the fort," Mina replied.

Sawyer's brow knotted, his nose scrunched in a glower. He removed his arm from Rudy's person and stalked onward without another word. Rudy motioned for Mina to stop next to him. When Drago no longer felt her guiding him forward, he stopped in turn, leaving Sawyer to walk alone.

"Did you have to spoil the moment?" the priest sighed. "It was a pleasant reprieve from... this."

Mina grinned. "He'll get over it."

She took Rudy by the arm and strolled with him after the captain. This time, Drago followed closely. He wouldn't dare say it, but he breathed easier to know that was altogether possible for the water dragon to be elsewhere. If it was at Fort Ledanesis, they might have lost their opportunity to take on the beast. They might have to find an alternative means to save their skins from the coming of the dragons. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't ever have to fight another.

They had been walking for some time through the powder. The longer they lingered, the deeper the chill cut into their gear. Ahead of Drago, Mina and Rudy had been chatting. They had been quiet at first, but as the captain's stalking ahead of them had settled to a brisk jaunt, their voices had raised to cheery banter.

Now, however, Sawyer stopped. The archer and priest ahead of Drago redoubled their clip to get an idea of what he had found. As Drago neared, it became clear that it wasn't what Sawyer _had_ found, it was what he _hadn't_. There were toadstools and trees all around them, but the trail they followed seemed like a dead end. Sawyer turned back, looking straight to the blonde.

"Well, scout," he said, "what do you think?"

Drago thought back. There hadn't been a fork in the path since they crossed the bridge into Sediche, and the trees were too dense to wade through. Most of the toadstools' spores were visible as faint, dirt-like specks amid the snow, and the few dead deathclovers near them suggested they were poisonous. It was best not to cross those particular toadstools, either. The only way to move was onward was to ascend the cliff before them. The path seemed to continue straight ahead, but it was too high to reach the edge.

Drago made his way to the cliff face, in spite of the toadstool at its base. It was a taller, narrower specimen, with a somewhat flat cap. It also didn't emit those poisonous-looking spores. Drago reached for the toadstool to see if it was sturdy enough to stand on. At his touch, the form quivered. He gasped and withdrew his hand as the strange toadstool sprang up until it was level with the cliff face.

The blonde knight jumped as a pair of hands gripped his shoulders. Moist warmth tickled his ear as the captain whispered, "Good work."

The mushroom settled to its original height. Sawyer waited until it was stable to climb onto it.

"Wait!" Drago said. "We don't know if it's safe!"

Even with the captain's weight pressing against it, the toadstool still wobbled, and then sprang into the air. As it came to a stop level with the cliff above them, Sawyer stepped off, and smirked down at them from above. "It'll do," he replied. "Now get up here."

"I'm not riding that thing."

Much to Drago's dismay, Mina had already joined Sawyer. Rudy was climbing onto the toadstool in turn.

"Overruled, Drago," Mina called down to him. "Let's go."

"Don't worry about him," Sawyer said. "If he wants to join us, he'll catch up. Let's go."

Drago stood alone by the toadstool, in the shadow of the cliff, sizing up the now-still form.

"By the way, Sawyer," Mina said.

"What?"

"I didn't tell Allard about Lucian."

"What?" Sawyer hissed. "Why?"

"I told Coty to do it," she said. "Do you think the commander-in-chief will tell him the rest?"

"Mina, _why_?"

"Cotes doesn't want to believe this is happening," she replied, "but he knows it is. And when he comes to terms with that..."

The other knights' voices soon grew too faint to make out their words. They really were going on without him. Drago frowned at the toadstool. It was even chillier standing there, alone in the shadow of the cliff. He took a deep breath, climbed aboard, and braced for the strange, springing motion. When he had stumbled safely onto the land above, the others weren't as far as he thought. They had just been lowering their voices. Still, he clambered to his feet and staggered after them. The mountain seemed bigger now than it had from the bridge to Nowem. The path they followed proceeded directly into it.

"Did you hear that?" Rudy asked.

"Hear what?"

That's when the howling began. The first cry didn't sound like an animal. It was a nasal mockery of one, but the second, the third, and more were not. The howls echoed all around them. Sawyer had his hands on the hilts of his blades, and Drago knew then to draw his own. Wolves leapt from between the trees, half a dozen of them. They dodged Mina's arrows and Sawyer's slashes. Rudy landed a fist square in the muzzle of one of the wolves. While it recoiled, the rest were closing in on the priest.

As the knights rushed to Rudy's aid, one word echoed from the nasal voice that had first howled. "Fire!"

Snow shot through the air, arched high and raining down on the knights. Some of it was powder, blinding them in a flurry, and some of it was packed to beat them down. None of the first round of snowballs hit their targets. Even so, the priest was on the ground.

As Drago rushed to regroup with the others, he saw something blunt and dark in the snow. A stone. Mina had shot one of the wolves, and Sawyer had kicked back another that he had missed with his blades, as the next volley of powder and snowballs came raining down from the sky. Drago's gaze flicked to the falling snow. The one that would land the nearest to him would land directly atop Mina. He dove at her, sending them crashing into the snow. The snowball, and the stone inside it, thumped against the ground by their feet.

Drago rolled off of Mina. Sawyer had successfully chased back the wolves. One had lost a leg, and another had fallen altogether. The rest, however, still looked ready to strike. No longer buried beneath the wolves, Rudy rolled from his bottom to his knees, but with the restorative light collecting his energy in his hands, he hadn't the strength within himself to stand.

"Captain, we should leave," Drago said.

"They're wolves and goblins, Drago. Just wolves and goblins."

"No, he's right," Mina agreed. "We're not going to find the dragon here, and you know it."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

This chapter ran a bit longer than anticipated. There were some big changes to the points covered in it. I'm not sure if that was for the better. Oh well~ In the next chapter, Gil shows us what he's made of! ...Or not. xD


	22. At Least the Wolves Kept You Company

**Chapter Twenty-One - At Least the Wolves Kept You Company**

* * *

><p>Rad trudged alongside the drummer, groaning every few minutes at their leisurely walking pace. Clay's attention rested on a small wooden figure in progress. It was dark, but he could make out just enough of the wooden figure and the glint of starlight on his whittling knife. At least, he thought he could.<p>

"Ah, shit."

"What is it?" Rad asked.

"Nothing," Clay said. He suckled on his thumb just long enough to assess the damage before he resumed his handiwork.

It was well into the night. The trees were thinning, and the ground around them bore more grass than fallen leaves. They were nearly upon the edge of the Nowem region.

"You cut yourself," Rad deduced. "You know, you really shouldn't do that in the dark."

Clay leveled a glare at the guitarist, though the other dark elf's attention had already wandered. Rad had spied a light in the distance, and it wasn't until he dashed towards it that Clay saw it, too. Though faint, the greenish shine was bright in the blackness beneath the boughs. It was the wings of a light elf. It was hard to be sure from this distance, but they looked like a small, single pair. But it wasn't the lighted figure Rad had been drawn to. Barely a silhouette beside the light elf was the tiny frame of the band's vocalist. Clay rolled his eyes, and made his way to the small company.

The light elf was as small as Hollace, and even before he had drawn near enough to make out the detail of the overshadowed dark elf, he had caught sight of the light elf's pack. This near, he could even make out the dark mark beneath the light elf's left eye. Hollace had been sent to collect Gil. Beside the light elf, Rad and Hollace's silhouettes danced. The guitarist had scooped up the much shorter vocalist in an exaggerated squeeze and spin of an embrace.

"You didn't have to come, Rad," Hollace said. "But thanks."

Clay ran both of his hands through his shaggy mane of hair, and brought them to rest at the back of his neck. "You dragged me all the way out here for this?"

"I had to be sure he was safe," the guitarist replied, grinning over his shoulder to the drummer.

"Samara's back there with that human she fancies, Radley. They're planning to run off together," Clay said. "You know I can't just let them go."

"He's bedridden," Rad rebutted, and Clay sighed.

Hollace huffed. "Can we go?"

The small dark elf had slipped around the guitarist and was already a few steps ahead of them. The drummer nodded, and they resumed their travels, this time back towards the Forest Metropolis. Rad walked in step with Hollace ahead of him, and Gil seemed content to drift between them all. With the light elf between him and the rest of the world, Clay was blinded by the light of the poet's wings.

* * *

><p>The small company was halfway between the bridge to the Cuatour region and the Forest Metropolis. They had just passed the road leading south towards the Cinco region when Rad and Hollace stopped. Clay stepped ahead of Gil, and into the shadows cast before them from the light of the poet's wings.<p>

"What is it?" Gil asked.

"We have company," Rad replied.

As Clay's eyes adjusted to the darkness around them, he saw what Hollace and Rad could already see. Pale faces approaching in the distance. Like the elves, they were a company of four. He couldn't be sure from the distance still between them, but the ease with which he could make out that tone where he still had some difficulty seeing the dark elves directly in front of him suggested that they were human. Hollace stepped forward, but he didn't make it more than arm's length from the rest of them. Rad had a grip on his arm, and his feet firmly planted. Gil had set his feet down, too, as though if he didn't the wind could carry him where he did not wish to go.

"Just ignore them," Hollace said. "If we just stand here like it's a big deal, they'll make a deal out of it."

In spite of Rad's hold, Hollace continued onward. The guitarist stumbled for a few steps before relinquishing control and tagging along. Clay had begun to follow when the light elf in their company huddled near.

"What if they're dangerous?"

"That's why we should leave them alone," Clay said, "let's go."

The minutes dragged on as they neared the company before them. Clay stole a glance at the approaching figures. The closer they got, the easier it became to see the faces amid their pale skin, the tears in their thick cotton clothes, and dark spots that might have been blood. Gil slipped around the drummer from behind, pitting the dark elves between him and the approaching human company. Certainly the dark elves had a better rapport with the humans than the light elves did, but Clay walked close to the poet all the same.

"I know them," Gil whispered.

"Are they dangerous?" Clay asked, his gaze flicking to the light elf.

The poet was pointedly staring at the human company, his eyes wide. He fussed with the end of his scarf for a moment before pulling it off and stuffing it in his pack. He was shaking. Clay bit his tongue to keep from asking anything more to which the answer was so plain to see.

"Fancy seeing you here," called the wild-haired man at the head of the company. He was staring back at the poet, a smirk twisting the ends of his mouth.

Rad paused mid-step ahead of the drummer. Though Hollace hadn't also stopped, and might have dragged Rad back into motion, Clay nudged the guitarist onward. Only a few yards farther, however, and they were too near just to ignore one another.

"Leave them alone," said a soft voice from the back of the human company.

The smirk on the leader's face flattened so quickly, it was as if Clay had only imagined that it had been there at all. His gaze had also turned to the ground, to a point somewhere behind him, though that was as far as the leader came to glaring at the man who had spoken before his attention returned to the elves. More accurately, to the light elf.

"Gil, right?" the wild-haired human asked. "Cepheid's bitch?"

There was a small squeak behind Clay. Never mind Hollace's insistence that they get home, presumably so that the vocalist could rest, Clay was ready then to steer them all onward. But the human company was too close. The leader had his followers on either side of him, the soft-spoken one farthest from the elves, and another two nearer. Until they were good and ready to let the elves pass, there wasn't enough leeway to get by without trouble.

The wild-haired man stepped around the woman beside him, closer to the elves. Though the man nearest to them, with the most rips and stains on his clothes, was reluctant to do the same, the woman didn't hesitate to keep in-stride with their leader.

"Maybe you can tell me where I'll find the water dragon."

"You've no business with the dragons," Hollace replied.

"I wasn't talking to you," the man hissed.

"Yeah, well, Gil's never met Lord Kelvin," the vocalist said. He strolled ahead of Rad, bringing up his arms and resting them on the back of his neck. There was a quick flicker of energy between the tips of the dark elf's fingers as they interlocked. "But you were on the right track searching the Sediche region."

For a moment, even the scowl disappeared from the wild-haired human's features.

"That _is_ Lord Kelvin's home, but he hasn't spent much time there since Lord Baade was killed," Hollace continued. "At least the wolves kept you company."

If Clay was close enough to Hollace then, he would have smacked the smaller elf for how clearly his grin echoed through his words. There wasn't enough to indicate whether the blood spattered upon and soaked into the clothes of the human company was their own or otherwise. He suspected a little of both, but saw no wounds wrapped beneath the corresponding tears.

"Where is he?" the human leader spat.

"Where else? At the fort you humans built, waiting for the right time to rain hell on your ugly city."

The leader of the human company glanced to the woman on his left, and then to Hollace. Before Clay could even blink, she had lifted her bow and notched an arrow. It flew without hesitation. Hollace threw his arms in the air. Lightning flashed from the ground through the arrow's head, and threw it off course. As the woman drew a second arrow, the vocalist shot a fireball back. The ragged human beside her pulled her out of the brunt of the flames.

Ahead of them, less poised to battle, the soft-spoken human had resumed walking onward.

Their leader drew his own weapons, twin blades, from the scabbards at his side. Somewhere retreating behind Clay, there came a gasp. Even armed, however, the leader of the pack did nothing. But he watched them, all of them, with a hunch in his shoulders like that of a smilodon stalking its prey.

The archer loosed another arrow against Hollace. The small elf side-stepped with ease. They were closing in on him, though, both the archer and her ragged accomplice. The next shot she took came near to Hollace's chest, clipping the leaf cloth just beneath the crook of the dark elf's arm. Though aimed to strike, the shots were also targeting slightly to one side of him. Evading was leading him away from the rest of the elves.

Rad had backed near to the edge of the path. Any farther and he would be heel-to-root with the trees. Gil was staring down the wild-haired man, neither of whom hadn't moved. Clay couldn't let Hollace get any farther alone and dashed after the archer and her accomplice.

After brushing off the last licks of flame from another of the vocalist's attacks, the ragged man closed in quickly. He balled his hand in a fist and threw a punch that carried light energy not unlike the vocalist's. Hollace staggered out of range of the attack. Clay wasn't close enough yet to grab the archer as she notched another arrow. Instead, he grabbed for his whittling knife and threw it at her. The knife hit its mark, albeit not the blade but the handle, and her shot was thrown above them all. With that moment to close the distance between them, Clay grappled the woman from behind. With her arms pinned to her sides, the woman settled instead for attempting to stomp on his feet.

While Clay spun about, evading the heels aimed at his toes, he found that the wild-haired man had moved. But not for them. He had left Clay and Hollace bound in the fray to his allies to pursue the light elf. Rad had gone after him. The guitarist dipped low to the ground and swept one of his long legs beneath the human's feet before he could reach Gil. Rad straightened and bounded back as the human fell to all fours. But he didn't stumble. The heel of his palms pressed against the ground, but the wild-haired human used that to throw himself into a sprint.

The woman in Clay's arms bucked, and yanked him back around. Hollace had been snared mid-step in a chokehold by the ragged man, but there was energy building in the vocalist's palms. He grasped at the arms around his neck, and released his lightning magic into both the human attached to him and himself. The human fell back several steps. Hollace staggered around to face him, and threw him down with fire before looking back to the scene Clay couldn't see.

"You should have just stayed out of it!"

Hollace was gaping. He threw a quick bolt, but as if he knew it wouldn't be enough he ran. Clay could see the light of the attack, but heard no crack of thunder in its wake. He lifted the woman in his arms and turned back to the rest of the action. The guitarist was clutching one arm. The off-white of his sleeveless turtleneck grew dark around it. And he was staggering back from the wild-haired human about to attack him again.

"RADLEY."

Clay dropped the archer in his grasp and took off after Hollace. There was a flash of light between the guitarist and that human monster. Where Rad crashed to the ground, there were still a couple yards between him and the wild-haired human. But there, for a moment, everything stopped. The human was immobile. The light still stood there between the figures and lighting the scarlet taint dribbling down the guitarist's arm, and casting the human's shadow over everyone behind them.

In spite of his bulkier form, Clay reached them first. He wrapped one arm around Rad's shoulders, and he meant with the other to grab the guitarist's legs. He would have carried the guitarist off. But it was then that it occurred to him what was projecting that light. Between Rad and that wild-haired monster was Gil. Gripped in both of his hands was a sword of ice, and it was buried to the hilt in the human's gut. Hollace was standing with them, too, another attack charged. The human's eyes had glassed over, his blades hung limp in his grasp. When the small poet's ice sword dematerialized, the human crumpled before them.

Hollace glanced up and around, and Clay's gaze followed. The archer well behind them was helping her accomplice back to his feet. With the ragged man hanging over one shoulder, she hadn't the means to loose anymore arrows upon them. They were making their way around, slowly but surely, to get a look at the damage dealt. But they moved in a broad arc around the elves, and weren't completely closing the distance.

The vocalist released his energy back into the earth, dismissing them as any further threat, and grabbed the end of the scarf still hanging from the light elf's pack. He bent over Rad and wrapped the grass cloth around the guitarist's wound.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Rad leaned into Clay before he nodded.

"Good," Hollace said. "We gotta go."

Clay didn't think twice before resuming what he had already thought to do. He lifted Rad into his arms, and tread carefully around the pool spreading closer to his feet. The vocalist clapped a hand on the light elf's shoulder. Gil's attention flicked briefly to Hollace before he bent over the human body and reached for something there in the mess. Swallowing the urge to vomit, Clay diverted his gaze and fixed it instead on the path ahead.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

In the next chapter, Gil's conscience leads him to do something he knows he should not.


	23. Your Chicks Are Okay

**Chapter Twenty-Two - Your Chicks Are Okay**

* * *

><p>"Samara? Samara, wake up!"<p>

Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared lazily forward. Her captain still lay beside her. She curled her fingers around loose strands of his hair. She could have stayed there forever.

"Samara," the voice insisted, "Rad's hurt, c'mon!"

She shoved herself into a seated position. "What?"

Hollace was standing over the bed extra bed in the room she and Ledert shared, where she and Lucian lay. Behind the band's vocalist, Ledert had been roused, too. Samara crawled over Lucian. The moment her feet touched the ground, Hollace grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the room.

"We were attacked," he explained. "Me and Clay are okay, and Gil... uh, Gil's been better, but Rad needs you."

Samara stumbled after the other dark elf to the landing, down the stairs, and into the foyer. It was mostly empty. Of course it was. It was the middle of the night and everyone was where Samara and Ledert had been, in bed asleep. If not in their own beds, then they had long-since travelled through the Nowem region to wherever Lady Vesper had led them. They had left with them not long after Clay and Rad had gone to meet up with Hollace.

Her musings at the stillness of the open space came to a screeching halt when her attention fell upon the other elves who were present. Gil had a chain in his hands, with four stones upon it and three of them glowing brightly. His attention was fixed on them, or more accurately on the violet stone cupped in his palms. She had seen that chain before, but not that stone. More pressing than the stones, however, was the blood covering the small light elf's person. Hollace squeezed her arm and gave it a tug.

Clay and Rad were quiet. It wasn't until Samara and Hollace had stopped before the other members of the band that Samara could really even see Rad around the back of Hollace's head. Her breath hitched. Clay had one arm around Rad's shoulders, and Rad was gripping the drummer's other hand. Gil's scarf was serving as a crude bandage. Rad put on a smile, just for a second, at the sight of her.

Samara bent over them as Hollace knelt beside Rad. The vocalist untied the scarf, at which Clay looked to the ceiling. Samara held out her hands near the wound. Rad whimpered as the exchange of energy began. Clay's hand migrated from shoulder to the short fuzz growing around the guitarist's mohawk, pressing them cheek-to-cheek with one another. The foyer was filled with the sounds of naught but measured breaths and stifled gasps.

While she coursed her magic through the guitarist's arm, Hollace stood and stepped around them. The glow of Gil's wings amid that of the Forest Metropolis' bubbling lighting followed the vocalist. It paused behind her, ever silent until Clay glanced back at them.

"Are you okay?" Hollace asked.

"Why are you asking me?" Clay huffed. "I'm not the one who—"

"You look about as green as the paint on your face."

Samara looked from the wound she tended to the drummer. He had averted his gaze both from Rad's arm and the light elf behind her. Beside Clay, in spite of the tears in his eyes, Rad was grinning.

"It's not funny, Holly," Clay grumbled. "You taunted them, you invited trouble, and look—"

"It's okay, Mama Hen," Rad mumbled. "Your chicks are okay."

Clay pulled away from Rad to glare at him. Rad smiled back and shrugged his good arm. Clay's glare melted into a mess of creases and tears, the ugliest look Samara had ever seen on him, which he promptly buried in Rad's good shoulder. Rad's smile fell. As Samara pulled his wound back together, there were better things than pain underlying the damage. Clay couldn't see it, but Hollace's cheer and Rad's attempts at the same suggested that somewhere inside the guitarist was relieved. Whatever had happened out there, at least they had made it back in one piece.

"They were going to attack us anyway," Hollace said. "C'mon, Gil, let's get you cleaned up."

Behind Samara, the light of Gil's wings drifted off in the distance, and soon she couldn't see it at all beyond the lights in the foyer. She knelt with Clay and Rad, working her magic over the wound, until there was nothing left that she could do for it.

"How long ago did this happen?" she asked.

"Half an hour ago," Rad replied, "maybe an hour? I'm not sure."

"Still, that's a long wait," Samara said. "I can't heal it all."

"That's okay."

"You gotta take it easy on that arm," she insisted. "It's not just ghost pains. It still needs to heal."

"Yeah, got it."

Clay gave Rad's hand a squeeze before he said, "He can't play."

Samara pressed her lips together and nodded. The guitarist's glimmer of humor faded then.

"It's okay," Clay said. "I'll play for you." He glanced back up from where he had buried his face and rested his forehead against that of the guitarist.

"Do you need help cleaning up?" Samara asked.

Clay glanced to the wound she had closed, and quickly turned his gaze elsewhere. "We'll be fine," he lied. She wasn't about to press it.

"All right," she sighed. "I'm gonna go back to bed, then."

She lingered a moment longer, standing back as Clay pulled Rad to his feet, and watching them as they made their way in the same direction Gil and Hollace must have gone. When they had disappeared from sight, Samara turned back to the stairs and made her way up to her room. Inside, she noted, Ledert wasn't there. Lucian was still sound asleep, however, and that was all that mattered to her. She crawled back into bed beside him, and closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>Samara wasn't sure how long had passed when she heard the door open. The soft patter seemed almost determined to keep from rousing her. She lazily opened her eyes to Lucian's face, and stared at him for a moment before turning to face whomever had joined them. Hollace was standing just inside the door, and easing it shut. Ledert was pulling a blanket around Gil's shoulders, kneeling on her beside him. Gil still clutched the violet stone.<p>

"Wake him up," Hollace said, nodding to Lucian.

Samara frowned, and shook her head. At this, the smallest of the band made his way to the girls' extra bed. Samara stood and grabbed him, holding him back the best she could. "Let him sleep," she replied, "we can talk in the morning."

"WAKE UP."

Gil flinched, his eyes darting from the stone to the vocalist.

Samara shoved the other dark elf back. "What's gotten into you?"

He wasn't looking at her, but behind her. "This isn't about you, Valko," he said. "This is about all of us, and that means humanity, too. You can't run from this."

Samara glanced back. While she had her back to him, Lucian had sat up. He held his head in his hands and breathed deeply. Samara crawled back into bed beside him. Hollace stepped towards them again. Lucian glanced first to Samara and then to the rest of the elves in the room. Samara followed his gaze. Ledert was still paying more mind to Gil than to the rest of them. And it wasn't Hollace's scowl that caught his attention.

"That locket, those stones," he said, "that's Sawyer's chain."

Gil drew his knees close, examining the metal disc. He popped it open, and his jaw dropped. "I know her, that human girl, that's—"

"His daughter, Teddy," Lucian finished.

"They were after Lord Kelvin," Hollace stated. "They tried to kill us."

Lucian rubbed the traces of sleep from his eyes. "What became of them?"

Hollace's scowl deepened, his lips a flat line, as he glanced over his shoulder to the poet. "Their captain is dead."

Ledert's eyes grew wide. "Holly, tell me you didn't," she hissed.

"I didn't," he assured. "Gil did."

* * *

><p>From well up in the sky, Gil looked down upon the blooms sharing their white light. Maybe it would have been best if he had stayed with the dark elves, but he was responsible for the tragedy that little girl would face. As he sank to the ground, he popped open the locket hanging between the orbs again. The bubbly smile and bright eyes staring back from within, he would never forget. She didn't look much like her father. Sawyer might have been a monster, but Teddy wasn't. Gil refused to be reason for that human girl to hate the elves she seemed so to cherish. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand, and snapped the locket shut before floating through the Marais region.<p>

There were plenty of white blooms around the region. They were the dandelions of the Marais region, they grew everywhere. Gil decided that these weren't the flower she should have. He would find her an evening bloom, shining crimson. While they weren't as bright as their white counterparts, the contrast of color should be enough to spy them easily amid the region's perpetual spring overcoat.

He set his feet on the ground, west of the entrance to the City of Flowers, and strolled along the edge of the mire. It was nothing here like it was deep in the region where light elves went to die. He cupped the violet stone in his hands. "Don't worry, Lord Cepheid," he murmured, "we'll save you soon."

The flick of red in the corner of his eye, he first mistook for the orb in which fire dragon had been sealed. When it failed to move along with him, he stopped and lowered the chain from sight. There it was—an evening bloom. He tucked the chain into his pack, and bent nearer to the flower to get a better look at it. Someone had told him once that he shouldn't pick the flowers. They were one with Tottaus, and in the earth they should remain. But this was a special occasion. He glanced up towards the city's entrance, looking for the light of another elf's wings. Surely just this once they could make an exception.

It would need soil and water to keep it from wilting, especially if he couldn't find a way into the city without attracting any unwanted attention. Gil set his pack on the ground and rifled through it for anything that might be able to contain the evening bloom. Nestled atop fresh feathers for quills, and snug beside his notebook, was his inkpot. It wasn't big enough to house the poor flower for long, but it could do for the time being. He popped its cork, and dumped the ink onto the dirt path.

He pulled the evening bloom loose and fitted its roots to the inkpot with the soil in which it had been, but it needed something more. He removed the orbs from the chain, and wrapped it and the locket around the mouth of the pot.

* * *

><p>Although there were men dressed in the crests of the knights stationed at the gate facing Fort Ledanesis, Gil didn't come near enough to be seen. He had skirted well around the fort as surely everyone in it would think him mad for what he was doing. And they would definitely be right.<p>

Gil stopped to examine the wall where he had approached the city. He hadn't noticed the first time, but it was much like a stronghold itself. The bridges were the only paths in and out of the city. From way up above, when he and Lord Nogueira had first visited, he had counted six bridges, six gates. There might have been another farther still and out of sight from the angle at which he had observed it, but those bridges were the only entrances and exits. And worse still, all around the city were canyons. He floated up to the top of the wall, and peered into the human city.

Humans couldn't fly. Without their bridges, they would be trapped within the confines of that foul place. They'd be cut off from the farm land, the lakes and rivers throughout the regions—everything. His wings, though little more than energy, curled around him. He couldn't imagine living like that. He didn't want to think of a world where his feet were forever on the ground, and in a place that could so easily be cut off from the outside world and turned into a kind of prison.

Gil shoved the thought to the back of his mind. The streets below were vacant, but he could see well over the average homes. The ethereal lights of the magic school were still a ways in the distance, and near to the next gate. He followed the wall closer to it. There was no telling if he would even find the girl there, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He would swoop in, drop the flower, and be gone just as soon.

He stopped around the side of the school, and pulled himself onto the city wall. This late, he was sure most of the city would be sleeping, and even if he raised some alarm, he could be out before any trouble befell him. There was still not a soul in sight when Gil inched his way through the air and into the light of the magic school. There, the glow of his wings was less prominent. He made one last cursory glance before darting for that automated door.

He bit his bottom lip. There was no one behind the reception desk, but there were other doors like the entrance. Though he heard nothing to suggest that anyone was on the other side of them, he could not count on that and kept his distance. If only it was as simple as leaving the evening bloom on the reception counter. Gil looked to the stairwell that led up to that professor's office. Even if the professor was around, he would recognize Gil. He would know Gil meant well, and he would understand, right?

Gil heard voices. He couldn't tell from whence they came, but they were growing louder. He turned and dashed up the stairwell, not sure where his footfalls ended and where his wings began to carry him.

It was no relief at all to find the professor seated behind his desk. He had that same scroll as before, with the prophetic poem etched upon it, rolled flat on his desk. He had other papers scattered atop it, one of which he was scrawling on now. He must not have heard Gil's footfalls at the base of the stairs or sharp gasp when he saw the professor.

Gil could set down the flower and leave. He lowered himself to the ground to do just that, but before the inkpot and the evening bloom within it had touched the ground, he saw someone else. Small, curled up in a blanket across chairs pulled together beyond the professor's desk. Her head was at the other end, facing away from the lamplight. But that was her, Teddy.

Gil had sunk all the way to the ground, and not even felt it beneath his knees. What if she already knew?

"Well, this is a surprise," said the professor.

Gil squeaked. He hugged the wall, unable to command his legs to stand, his wings to fly.

Teddy rolled onto her bottom, and glanced first to the professor, and then to the glow of Gil's wings and the evening bloom by the stairwell. Her eyes opened wide, and Gil's heart sank. Teddy studied the light elf as she slipped from her makeshift bed and made her way to him.

Her attention deviated to the flower, and she reached tentatively for its petals. "You brought me one," she gasped. Gil nodded, and the girl's smile lit even the darkest reaches of the room.

Gil ignored the tang on his tongue and fought back the urge to retch. She didn't know. She _couldn't_ know. He buried his face in his arms.

Evander bent down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Gil?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "What happened?"

"That's daddy's chain," Teddy said. The smile was gone from her voice.

Gil pulled his face from his arms, and glanced at the professor. He could feel Teddy's gaze on him, but dared not look.

"Where's dad?"

"I'm sorry," he said again. His eyes sank to the ground, to the evening bloom's crimson glow. "It was an accident."

The professor stood up and stepped around Gil. He collected Teddy in his arms, and made his way back to his desk where he slumped in his seat. Gil stood in turn, clutching the strap of his pack and shifting his weight from foot to flight. The professor whispered solace in the girl's ear, but Gil could not make out his words over her sobs. Fuller truths lingered on the end of his tongue, but if Gil said anything more, it might trigger the professor into action. He inched his way to the stairwell.

Gil had made it only halfway down the stairs when the school's main exit opened below. He didn't think twice before doubling back up the stairs and ducking behind the professor's desk. Hands clasped over his mouth, he kept Evander as much between himself and the stairwell as he could. His wings lit up the corner, and even in complete silence he wasn't hidden at all. The professor's attention had fixed on the stairwell rather than on Gil. Whomever had entered was coming their way.

There were no voices, but there was grunting and heavy footfalls. Whoever it was walked with some strain. Knowing he'd be caught anyway, Gil peered around the professor. He gripped Evander's sleeve, sinking under the chair on which the professor sat, when he saw their faces.

"You!" Mina hissed. She stepped towards the desk, as if to strike him with the same force as that of the venom in her words, and Gil leapt back. But Mina came to an abrupt halt when the girl in Evander's arms grabbed instead for her. Though she continued to glower around the girl, she simply stood there. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Behind her, the light of the evening bloom drew nearer. Gil got a good look at Drago's drawn features as he placed the inkpot and the precious crimson flower on the corner of the desk.

Evander glanced sidelong to the knights, and then back to the mess of papers on his desk. "Mina, I need you to take her home." Mina opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head. "Please go. And stay with her."

The woman's lips twitched. She clutched the girl in her arms, grasping at the hairs at the nape of the girl's neck. Evander turned his head fully to her and stared her down until she stepped back.

When it became apparent that Mina wasn't going to go any farther, Drago tapped her shoulder. She glared at him with malice not unlike the wolfish captain's, though the blonde knight didn't even flinch. He held out his arms. "I'll take her."

Teddy changed arms again, sniffling, and snuggling into Drago. He moved quickly for the stairwell.

"Wait downstairs for us," Evander called after him.

Drago nodded and continued on his way. The room went still. Evander watched the stairwell, and listened as intently as Gil did to the receding footfalls. Gil still kept the professor between himself and the woman on the other side. Mina had her eyes on the ground, her hands clenching and unclenching.

"You know why we're here?" she asked, and glanced sidelong to Gil. "He told you?"

"Sawyer really has fallen, then?"

Mina pressed her lips together, and nodded. The malice had returned to her gaze. "By his hands."

Gil stared wide-eyed as the professor turned his way to study the small elf, pressing himself against the back wall. "I had to!" he squeaked.

"I don't doubt that," the professor said. "I've heard plenty about you since he began his conquest."

"Evander!"

"He is not our enemy, Mina."

"How can you say that?" she hissed.

The professor dismissed her with a shake of his head. "Gil, what happens now?"

"What do you mean?" Gil asked.

"If everything goes as foretold," Evander elaborated, "humanity will die, won't it?"

Gil pressed himself against the wall, hoping against the odds that he wouldn't collapse and freeze there on the ground again. "I don't know."

"It will," Mina affirmed. "And there's nothing more we can do to stop it."

"We've yet to see about that," Evander commented.

The professor gripped the armrests of his seat and pushed himself back onto his feet, though not without effort. Beneath the flecks of ashen hair, his visage was drawn, and his breaths ragged. Gil wasn't sure what to make of that, but flinched as the professor shuffled to where he stood. The man reached out, and Gil shielded his face in his arms.

"Come along," Evander said, his arm still outstretched and no ill befalling the small elf. "You cannot linger here."

Gil lowered his arms. Reluctantly, he took the professor's hand, and Evander guided him away from the false security of the wall. The professor was even considerate enough, as he led Gil around the chair and towards the stairs, to keep himself between the light elf and Mina. Naught but the woman's eyes followed them as they moved.

"You can't be serious," she muttered. "You're just going to let him leave?"

"We have no reason to keep him," Evander replied.

The professor guided Gil in front of him, and sent him down the stairs first. Gil staggered down one step after another, feeling beneath the weight of Evander's hands as though his wings had been clipped, the magic that would carry him drained. In the lobby of the magic school, Drago had settled in one of the seats, and Teddy was wrapped around him. Gil stared at the ground as they passed.

"Teddy?" the professor called. "Do you want to say goodbye to Gil before he goes?"

When she failed even to look their way, Evander assumed the negative, and directed Gil towards the exit. The professor stopped Gil at the door and stepped out first, bidding him not to follow. The door closed between them, and for the moment he simply waited.

Gil felt a hand grab for his. As before, he hadn't even heard the girl approach him. He turned to her, and before he could so much as look at her, she had wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his stomach. He curled his arms around her, and rested his chin on her head. Even when the professor returned, and he loosened his hold on her, she hadn't let up her grasp in the slightest. Evander rubbed at her shoulders and coaxed her arms loose. When Gil was free of her, the professor took her up in his arms again, and carried her outside. This time, he waved for Gil to follow.

The streets were still as clear now as they had been when Gil had slipped into the city, but the horizon had begun to green with the light of dawn.

"Thank you for coming."

Gil nodded. No longer weighted, and anxious to be free of the human city, he lifted his feet from the ground. He gasped in a strange breed of tension and relief to find his feet part with the earth beneath them. He pursed his lips, sure he should say something, _anything_, but could not find the words. When the pause that followed grew awkward, he rose a little higher, and with no resistance took off into the sky.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

OMFG, an update! Sorry it's been so long. I have reasons and excuses, but ultimately, simply, voila. In the next chapter, making survival plans stinks, and mother knows best.


	24. They're Never Silenced

**Chapter Twenty-Three - They're Never Silenced**

* * *

><p>Lucian's breath formed a small cloud before his eyes. He ran his thumb over Samara's fingers, and he gave the hand in his a squeeze. "Are you sure this is all right?" he asked.<p>

Samara craned her neck to meet his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"They'll worry," Lucian said. "Are you sure it's all right to go without saying goodbye?"

The dark elf's attention turned back to the ground. "They'll wanna come," she replied. "It's better if they don't."

Lucian nodded.

"I left them a note."

"I don't think a note is going to be enough for your Mama Hen."

Samara's cheeks bubbled in a grin, and her stifled breaths concealed a giggle.

They moved onward, their path planned. Where they began in the Forest Metropolis, they were now reaching the Cinco region. They would cross the bridge to Dova, slip through Adien, and find their destination in Septem. The Algandars Castle was somewhere out there. Samara didn't know the way, but with Valko's aid Lucian did.

They had only just stepped into the Cinco region when a shadow caught Lucian's eye. There were some monsters like the treants in the Nowem region here in Cinco as well. He let go of Samara's hand and held out his arm before her as a shield. He still only had that hunting knife the girls had recovered from the fort, but it would have to do.

Samara shoved his arm aside, and looked around as he did. "What is it?"

"There's something here." He stood between her and where the shadow had gone.

Without the light of the moon or a light elf's wings to chase away the darkness, he couldn't find it anew. The shuffle of soft footfalls swept in behind them, and Samara gasped. Lucian turned quickly to see. Vesper had snared Samara, arms around the smaller dark elf's waist and a hand covering her mouth. Lucian couldn't see if Vesper also bore a knife.

"Not a word," Vesper hushed.

Lucian stared. Samara nodded the best that she could, and Vesper released her voice.

"What do you want?" Lucian asked.

"You're running from your destiny," came a voice behind him.

He whipped about to see who else had come. He knew the voice was Lorant's, but she and the dark elf elder weren't their only company. That green orc was there as well.

"So it's true then," Lucian said. "You've never been an ally to humanity?"

"I tried to keep the peace between the races so there would be no unnecessary bloodshed," she replied. "But you know as well as I who caused this upset."

Lucian bit his lips together.

"Vesper, lead the way," Lorant commanded.

Samara's arm still clutched within her calloused fingers, Vesper turned back towards the Nowem region.

"I'm not going," he said. "I'm not waking Aphelion."

"You can say that all you like," Lorant said, "but you are the vessel, and the time of imbalance is upon us."

Lucian looked to Samara. She was shaking her head, echoing his thoughts. He stepped back.

Lorant glanced to the orc. "Kelvin, if you'd be so kind."

The orc nodded. Lucian hadn't the time to wonder why the name sounded familiar as the orc lifted his club and bounded at Lucian to strike. Lucian stepped back. That knife would do him no good at all against the trunk that Kelvin was swinging around. Amid those wild swings, it was as if Kelvin had completely neglected that they needed Lucian alive. One hit in the right place could be the end of him.

"Are you mad?" Lucian cried.

Samara stumbled blindly after Vesper, her attention fixed behind them on Lucian and the orc. Lorant had started after the dark elves, but also stopped to watch. She might simply have been prepared in case Lucian tried to run. No doubt Lorant was quicker than Kelvin and would catch up with him sooner. Or worse, she was a dragon, wasn't she? She could fly, couldn't she? And of course the light elf within him who willed to do the same no longer had the means.

Kelvin's motions were more fluid than Lucian gave them credit for. Lucian wasn't gaining any ground between him and the orc as he dodged and ducked out of range. Kelvin drew up his club, holding it as high as he could in the air with both arms, and slammed it against the ground. The earth shook beneath the impact, but that was little more than a diversion. Kelvin's jaw hung open, and from it came a torrent of ice water from deep within his belly. Lucian was washed several yards down the road.

When the torrent ceased, Lucian lay on the gravel shivering and gasping for breath. He propped himself on his arms. Kelvin stood nearly on top of him, the expression in those beady eyes and that giant maw indiscernible. Lucian's head hung, and between breaths he muttered, "So it's you, the water dragon."

"Let's go," Lorant said. "We've wasted enough time."

Kelvin bent over Lucian. One of his giant hands wrapped fingers-to-thumb around Lucian's arm and pulled him from the ground whether or not he would stand of his own accord. Lorant continued after Vesper and Samara. Kelvin turned back the way Lucian had been heading through Cinco.

Though he didn't wish to challenge that hold, Lucian balked. "Lord Quasar, wait!" She hadn't stopped, and he couldn't be sure if she was even listening, but Kelvin stopped and that was enough. "I want to see my mom."

"She's probably succumbed to algandars, Valko," Lorant replied. "It would be a waste of time."

"While there's still some scrap of me left, please?"

Kelvin and Lorant stared at one another. Lucian took measured breaths awaiting the consequences. Their exchange was without words, but when it ended, the grip of that giant hand eased.

* * *

><p>Coty had given sleep an honest shot. He had spent a good part of the night lying awake for the last time in his sub-standard knights' quarters and staring at the ceiling. He had suspected, too, that even had he moved into Lucian's old room where there was a newer bed, and thicker quilts, he still would not have found slumber. And that's why he was well outside the castle and strolling through the city streets now. He had thought first to visit Mina's apartment to talk about the things the commander-in-chief had revealed to him, but he was also told that the Fer Lierre brigade was on assignment somewhere in the north. The only other place he could think to go was the magic school, but what were the odds that anyone would even be there?<p>

The light of dawn was creeping up fast when he reached the school. He adjusted the belt about his waist and tugged the wrinkles from his vest. At least the noblemen wouldn't have to see his bed-ruffled attire in the banquet hall. He rubbed at his arms as he stepped into the school.

To his surprise, the magic school wasn't empty at all. He counted four heads in the lobby. The professor knelt next to his son—a small, blonde boy who held a pair of glasses in one hand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the other. And sitting along the back wall was Sawyer's daughter in Drago's lap.

Coty blinked. Maybe he was asleep and dreaming it all. "What?"

"You mean 'hello'?" Evander replied.

Coty chuckled, but shook his head. "What are you all doing here?" He looked around the professor to Drago. "I thought _you_ were up north, or did he leave you behind again?"

Evander tapped his finger to his lips, and Coty frowned. He opened his mouth to speak again, and the professor vehemently shook his head. Coty threw up his arms, huffed as exaggeratedly as he could manage, and let his arms clap back against his sides.

"Fievel, wait here," Evander said. He made his way to the stairwell, and up to his office.

Coty watched Drago cradle the girl in his arms before wheeling about and stalking after the professor. He kept his silence for only half the flight of stairs before calling after the professor. "Evander, you better tell me what the hell—oh, Mina." Coty stopped at the top of the stairs when he saw the rest of the company Evander kept.

"Sawyer's dead," the professor said.

Mina was slouched in Evander's chair, her elbows on his desk, and fingers massaging her temples. Coty found the courtesy then, at least, to keep his jaws shut.

Evander sighed. "I'm sorry, Coty, but I couldn't say anything more around you-know-who."

Coty pressed his lips together in a flat line, and nodded. "So... what do we do now?"

Mina shoved off the desk and sat upright. "Your elf friend said if we couldn't stop the dragons, that the villages might be spared." She shook her head and confided, "I don't believe that."

"We're sending Drago and the kids to his home in Cinco Village," Evander said. "We can't be sure they'll be safe, but they'll stand a better chance outside the city."

"But what about inside the city?" Coty asked.

"We can't evacuate all of Radiata without changing the nonhumans' course of action," Evander replied. "If all of us leave the city for the countryside, they'll pursue us there. It'll compromise the villagers' chances of survival."

"So we need to find somewhere safe within city walls," Coty said. Resting his hands on his hips, he glowered at the ceiling. "That's just great. Where in Radiata are we supposed to shelter hundreds of people from _dragons_?"

"Keep your voice down, Cotes," Mina scolded. "The kids know the city is unsafe, but they don't need to know why." She rifled through the papers on the professor's desk, and picked particular pieces from among them. "Besides, I think we've got our answer."

Evander wheeled about and stepped broadly to his desk. Coty trailed after. Mina set the select pages side-by-side in front of them. Though one of the pages was recent and another lightly weathered, the last was heavily yellowed and its original routes had long faded and been once re-traced.

"What are we looking at?" Coty asked.

Evander leaned over the desk and cocked his head to get a better look at the pages. "They're maps of the sewer system beneath the city."

"Okay," Coty muttered. "But what's so special about them?"

"This change-over thing happens about once every thousand years, and when Sawyer challenged the dragons, he brought it on early. But look at the dates on these," Mina said. She tapped the corner of the yellowed map. "Sawyer found this in a hidden room down there, and it dates well before the last time the change over would have happened. This one, drafted about a hundred years ago, is nearly the same. And this..." Mina pulled the newest map overtop of the others. "This, Sawyer had Drago sketch for us. There haven't been any changes at all since the last one. The foundation of the city is solid."

Evander studied the pieces, pulling the newest map nearer for a better look. "So there's a chance we'll be safe _beneath_ the city?" he asked.

"Yeah," Mina replied, "a chance."

Coty grinned. "And how do you propose we tell everyone they gotta move to the sewer?"

"Coty Silverlake, you wipe that grin off your face right now," Mina huffed. "We lost our general, and the only man crazy enough to try and end this bloody cycle, and the orbs we needed to do it, and we're running out of time to brace for what's still to come."

Coty's grin broadened in spite of it all. "For a big deal like this, word spreads fast. You, me, Evander and Rudy, we just gotta get out and tell the right people—the guild leaders. If we can get them on board, they'll help us. We'll make it work."

"I hope you're right."

* * *

><p>At the fort once more, hopefully for the last time, Lucian stood outside with Kelvin while Lorant headed inside. Lucian was pulled from reverie as Samara threw her arms around him. She buried her face in his chest, and he squeezed her right back.<p>

"If Faunus is still alive, we'll send her out when you send Samara in."

Lucian studied Vesper for a moment before nodding.

"Lord Kelvin," she said, "give them a little privacy. They won't go anywhere."

The orc's beady eyes looked them over just once before he disappeared after Lorant. Vesper followed in turn.

Lucian kept his arms firmly around Samara, and for a while hers couldn't get any tighter either. But her hold fell lax before his did. He loosened his hold, and stroked her hair. They inched apart, and he reached to touch her face. Samara pulled back completely, spun on her heel, and dashed into the fort. Lucian stood and stared as the warmth of her being against his carried off on the breeze. He bit his lips together and strode towards the fort.

Before he had closed the distance, Faunus was stepping out from inside. Lucian choked back a sob and dashed for her instead.

"You're alive!"

Faunus curled her arms around him, cupping his shoulders in her palms. The spread of algandars wasn't just on her thigh anymore. She had gone barefoot to accommodate where the growth had reached down her legs. It was crawling up her arms, too.

"I thought you'd come back," she said.

"Mom, what do I do?"

"You know what to do." Faunus pulled back, and took Lucian's hands in hers. She looked to him briefly before turning her gaze to the ground. "You can't save them, Valko. Not this time."

Lucian bent forward, trying to see through her aversion, and squeezed the hands holding his. "Not this time? Faunus, when will I ever get another chance?"

"I know you were just a child then," Faunus said, "but do you remember Lorant? Before she became Lord Quasar?"

"What about her?"

"Do you remember what she and Row would collect together?"

"Rainbow crystals?"

Faunus glanced back to Lucian, a small smile creasing her lips.

"Lorant _still_ collects rainbow crystals," Lucian said, relieved to still have the ability to speak for himself. Lucian gaped as Faunus' smile grew. He stared at her. "Quasar and Aphelion, they become their vessels?"

"It's no different from a transpiritation," she said. "The human and elf souls may be naught but whispers beneath the dragon's roar, but they're never silenced."

Lucian pulled Faunus back against him, and wrapped her in his arms.

"You're the first souls to empathize with one another," Faunus said. "That'll be hard for Lord Aphelion to ignore."

Lucian sniffled, and wiped his eyes on his palms the best he could around Faunus, and then he held her closer.

"Good luck."

"Thanks, mom."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

In the next chapter, nothing goes according to plan.


	25. Let's Do Something Crazy

**Chapter Twenty-Four - Let's Do Something Crazy**

* * *

><p>Samara sat outside with Lady Faunus, behind Fort Ledanesis. It was late in the evening, the day after she and Lucian had left for the Algandars Castle. He was long gone now. At this point, she was permitted to leave, but she wanted to see first hand what was to come. She might have been able to watch more from the other end of the fort and looking towards the human city than here facing the lake, but that much she was not allowed to do. She wasn't sure why. Lord Nogueira never discussed things where any eavesdroppers might hear them. It was all hushed voices behind thick walls, barring the occasional outburst from the elf lord's brother.<p>

She curled about her knees, her chin nestled between them. The light elf beside her slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled Samara close. The brush of that vegetative growth sent a chill crawling along her spine, but she made no effort to pull away.

"It'll be all right," Faunus said.

Samara wrapped tighter about her knees, a huff on her breath. Clay would worry. Ledert would be upset that they were left behind. And Samara felt alone without them. Faunus only watched, her arms folding before her stomach, as Samara stood and announced, "I'm going home."

Faunus smiled from where she still sat. "That would be for the best," she replied. "Would you like me to walk you there?"

Samara glanced to the dying light elf, and wiped her cheeks on the heels of her palms. She nodded and turned back inside the fort to collect her belongings. Faunus got up to follow. Inside no one paid much mind to Samara, she might even have been difficult to see in the darkening night, but everyone gave pause at the sight of the light elf behind her. Samara headed for the back room where she had been kept when Lucian and Kelvin left for the Silver Dragon Castle, though Faunus didn't follow her that far. She found her pack in the backmost corner, half-buried beneath rubble. She cast the rocks from her stuff. When she had fully uncovered her pack, she popped the buckles to examine the damage to their contents. Her box had caved under the rocks, beads had spilled everywhere, but aside from this the contents were undisturbed.

Samara took hold of the strap of her pack and pulled it over her shoulder. She headed back into the lobby of the fort. The whole space was lit from above in an ever-changing shimmer of color that spanned the rainbow. Samara glanced around, and then up. Lady Faunus was the only light elf on the ground. All of the smaller light elves were crowding above them, many of them altogether outside the reaches of the fort walls.

Samara returned to where Faunus stood. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," she said.

Samara glanced around the fort. There were look-out towers, and there were ladders to reach them. The light elves didn't need these, so the upper levels of the fort were clear enough that Samara could climb to them. She made her way up and looked out to see what the light elves saw.

Still a long way south, and a little to the west, was a shadow in the sky. It might have looked like a storm cloud in the evening's last lick of sunlight, but the shadow wasn't cast by light. It absorbed every ray and radiated darkness. Samara raced around to the next of the sentry towers, aiming for a better view around the light of all the elves' wings. It was still too distant to make out what was at the heart of that darkness, but it was getting closer.

She peered through the masses of light elves in search of any one, familiar face. "Hey!" she cried, "Hey you!"

The one she found was the squinty-eyed shop-keeper. The light elf glared at her as best her strange look could. "What do you want?"

"What is that?"

The light elf looked back out to the strange abyss. Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. "I don't know."

Samara raced back to the ladder and to the ground. She darted for the Radiata-facing gate of the fort, and shoved past the elves guarding it. Zane turned and glowered at whoever had opened the front entrance, his expression turning fowler still when he saw who it was.

Samara glared right back at him, and jabbed her finger in the direction of the sky. "Tell me what that is!"

Zane's attention flicked briefly to the darkness drawing ever-nearer, and a twisted grin spread across his face. "Why, it's Lord Aphelion," he replied, "awakened, no thanks to you, and about to restore balance to the dreadful place this world's become."

Samara balled her hands into fists, drew back, and threw one forward. She hit her mark. Zane doubled back at the blow, and summoned his light javelin.

"Enough!" bellowed Nogueira. "Something's not right."

The light elf leader stood opposite his brother, Samara between the two of them. His stern gaze was fixed on that shadow in the distance. It had gotten much closer. It looked as though it was skirting the human city altogether.

"What is he doing?" Zane asked. "Brother, I don't—"

"Run."

Samara skipped back into the fort.

Zane glanced to Nogueira. "What?"

"RUN," Nogueira cried.

Samara turned around and raced through the fort. The light elves scattered as the eerie darkness overtook the fort. Samara couldn't move fast enough. Before she knew it, she was on the ground. Faunus was on top of her. A barrier of light shone all around them, and just in time. Pillars of darkness cut through the foundation of the fort. It tore through the walls like they were wet clay. Fort Ledanesis collapsed around them, atop them. The shadow faltered, just for a moment, and then was joined by lights in the sky. Violet, green, and red raced past from somewhere to the north. The shadow sped after them.

The barrier flickered. In a burst of light, the vegetative growth covering Lady Faunus overtook her completely. The barrier faded completely, and shattered rock buried Samara beneath the algandars cocoon.

* * *

><p>They saw the shadow approaching from miles away. Even as the evening grew dark, it was like looking at distant trees beneath moon glow. There was unmistakably some foul abyss heading towards the city from a place beyond the Septem region. The signal went up, and alarm bells tolled at every gate. The people who could not be convinced danger was on their doorstep were coming out of their homes and rushing to see what was the matter. They headed for the gates.<p>

Coty watched them scramble as he helped Mina descent into the sewer. "We've barely slept trying to tell them all how to save themselves," Coty grumbled. "Didn't they get the memo?"

"Forget about them," Mina stated. "If they can't listen, they can't be helped."

Coty glanced up at the sky as the shadow above drew near enough to cast darkness over the city. But it continued past them, skirted the city altogether, and proceeded towards the Cuatour region. It was headed for Fort Ledanesis.

As the crowd thinned above-ground, Mina called up after him. "Come on, Cotes! Get down here."

Coty continued to watch after the abyss, shutting out her voice. His focus broke when a torrent surged through the alleys. Shingles and siding washed along. He glanced back as a second large form swooped overhead. Its twin maws gaped. Before it struck again, Coty jumped down the manhole. He gasped as his feet hit the ground below.

"Hey!" Mina cried. "The hell was that for?"

"Dragon!" he choked.

Mina just as soon had an arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders. Coty gripped her tightly as she hauled him to his feet and away from the uncovered manhole. He winced, a whimper beneath his breath. Sharp pain coursed up his leg from his ankle as he staggered along. They weren't nearly far enough as water gushed into the manhole from the streets above and washed their feet out from under them.

"You can't walk, can you?" Mina muttered, stumbling as she reclaimed her footing.

Coty rolled from his knees to his bottom. He shook his head. "Just go, Mina."

"Is it one or both feet, Cotes?"

"It doesn't matter, just go!"

Mina glanced to the manhole, and back to Coty. She stepped around him, reached under his arms, and dragged him along the slick stone path.

"What are you doing?"

"They passed," Mina said.

"They'll come back," Coty added. "They've barely started what they're here for."

"And you don't wanna be _there_ when they do."

Mina pulled him along only for a few minutes. They still hadn't heard another barrage above, the silence before the storm. When she stopped, she slumped against the wall of the path. Coty shoved himself back the best that he could and sat with her. She reached for his hand, and her fingers twined with his.

"Why did you stop?" he asked.

"There's another manhole ahead," Mina said. "I don't know how much farther, but I don't wanna be under it when they come back."

Coty nodded. He gripped the hand in his.

"Cotes?"

Coty glanced sidelong at Mina. "Yeah?"

"When we get out of this," she said, "let's do something crazy."

"Like what?"

Mina looked squarely at him. "Marry me."

Coty's eyes widened, and he turned fully to her. She grinned wryly. She might have even laughed, but that he couldn't hear as the ground rattled all around them.

It could not have been the water dragon. It might not even have been the abyssal thing that had come from beyond the Septem region. It was the earth dragon. The dragons of the elements had been revived. The ground shook again, and this time they heard a crash ahead that echoed all through the Path of the Spider. The light of street lamps carried on the dust as rubble cascaded towards them. The road had collapsed into the sewer.

As grit peppered them from above, Coty shielded his eyes with his free hand. "It's not gonna hold, is it?"

* * *

><p>It looked like fog all around him, darker than night and revealing to him only shadows of places that were vaguely familiar. It was all a blur—travel, time, existence. He could feel nothing. But he could hear the crackle of flames. The smell of burnt wood and flesh assailed his nostrils, and the taste of ash soiled his tongue.<p>

The fog was slowly lifting. The shadows filled with dimension. He became aware of the heaviness in his limbs, and uneven rubble beneath his soles. He dropped to his knees and gasped as if he'd forgotten how to breathe. He closed his eyes and simply knelt. He could still smell it, smoke. The taste of ash grew more repugnant. The chill of the air overtook the warmth of the fires in a swirl of contrasting temperatures. He dropped farther forward, his palms meeting the earth, his stomach turning. The smells grew stronger still. That tang welled in the back of his throat. _Don't swallow it,_ he thought. He tested the strength in his arms, shoving himself back on his knees, and forced open his eyes.

He wasn't quite sure where he was. Everything was in ruins. He pulled himself back into a stand, keeping still until he could trust his legs to carry him. He could see now, past the haze of his own vision and into the dark of night. The walls still stood, broken, but unmistakable. Where he stood was the City of Radiata—at least, what was left of it.

He turned to where the castle should have been, where there was naught but gray sky and ash drifting like snow. And it wasn't just the castle; the whole city had been leveled. The street wasn't even visible beneath his feet. These were the shapes in the fog. Before he had a handle on himself, these were what he had seen. He swallowed hard. Just as soon, he turned back around and vomited.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and wandered forward to put distance between himself and the contents of his stomach. What else had been in that fog? He saw the castle twice, but between these he had seen the shadow of another formidable place, wedged in the narrowest point of a valley.

"Fort Ledanesis," he gasped.

He staggered forward still, already facing the Cuatour region. He didn't go far, however, before he paused.

"Samara."

His eyes opened wide. He forgot the heaviness in his person, the broken city beneath his feet, and ran for the fort.

* * *

><p>"Samara?"<p>

The voice was faint, still well in the distance. She was sure it was familiar, but couldn't make out to whom it belonged through the rock and faintly glowing, bark-like casket. She shoved against the algandars cocoon. She briefly gained an inch to breathe, but when her resistance faltered, she lost two.

"Samara!"

"Over here!" she cried, "Help!"

The rock above her grew heavier the longer she lay there. Footsteps tread above her, nearly on top of her now.

"Hello?" she called again.

Piece by piece, the weight upon her lifted. When she could breathe again, in spite of the strain, she shoved against the algandars cocoon. Whoever stood above her cast everything aside, and before long Samara could see stars and moonlight.

"You're alive," the figure breathed.

She looked upon him at last and dove at him. With her arms wrapped around his waist, and her forehead nuzzling against his belly, she couldn't find her voice. It was several minutes before she pulled back, and only because he failed to return her embrace. She leaned back to look up to his face. Her tongue flicked to wet her lips.

"Lucian?" she asked.

He flinched. He looked back upon her without passion, without familiarity, but with a twist of remorse in his brow.

"Aphelion," she murmured.

"I'm sorry."

Samara's hold faltered. She stepped back, her gaze falling from his. Her lips pursed without sound. She settled for breathing instead. As the silence dragged on, overshadowed by the murmur of survivors, she shuffled back a bit farther. And then she looked up at him again. She took a deep breath, and her eyes searched his. He regarded her flatly. There was not even a trace of his slight smile or frown. She turned her attention back down upon to the remnants of the fort around them, the injured, the dead.

She couldn't keep her eyes from flicking to his as she asked, "Is any of Lucian left?"

He averted his gaze. "All of him is left," Aphelion said. "Every soul of every vessel, their hopes, their dreams..."

He studied the damage. She hadn't noticed it yet, but well beyond there was a trail of smoke rising from the direction of the human city. She lingered on it as he turned back around to face her.

"...and this." He slumped onto the rubble beneath them, his head in his hands, trembling. "I was not braced for a vessel quite like this one," he whispered. "If, in a thousand years, this is to be my nightmares..."

Samara stepped forward, and knelt before him. She reached out and cupped his cheeks. Her eyes bore into his. "Promise me this will never happen again."

"I would rather die."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

Kind of strange to think this is it, it's really over, though there is one last piece to go. I'll share my thoughts on the story as a whole when I get it up. Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you'll share your thoughts on it all, too. :3

In the epilogue, we visit Drago's home, Cinco Village.


	26. A Fresh Start

**Epilogue - A Fresh Start**

* * *

><p>The smoke rising from the City of Radiata could be seen all the way in Cinco Village for days following the dragons' assault. Their reach had not left the villages untouched. The fire dragon had overtaken the Cinco region and torched the fields, but that one pass was all he made. The people would have to ration their goods until new crop grew for them to harvest, but the village was otherwise unscathed. For that, they were grateful.<p>

Drago propped his easel on the peak of the hill that led down into Cinco village. He looked out over the farm land. He cast a glance in the direction of the city, and then to the boy in his company. Fievel tried, without success, to climb onto the wall that bordered the half-charred field.

"Need a hand?" Drago asked.

The boy stopped and settled back on the flats of his feet, his head ducking between his shoulders. He turned to face Drago and nodded sheepishly. Drago knelt to pick him up beneath the arms and hoisted him onto the wall.

"Thank you," Fievel murmured.

Drago smiled. As the boy opened his book to read, Drago resumed unpacking his tools. He centered the canvas set on his easel and reached into the box beside him for his palette and paints.

The afternoon passed peacefully as Drago immortalized the field in muted color. They had seen neither claws nor teeth of the dragons since the night of the attack. They hadn't seen any other non-humans, either. There was little more than the shuffle of turning pages near him until almost dinnertime.

Then they heard footsteps, steps that didn't start soft or grow steadily more prominent. One moment, Drago and his young company were enraptured with their endeavors, and the next aware that they weren't alone.

"Dad!" Fievel leapt from the wall, the book crashing to the ground, and ran to the man behind them.

Drago lowered his palette and brush, and turned about. He was sure there was more gray in the professor's hair than there had been the last time they had seen one another. Fievel wrapped his arms around Evander's waist, and the professor patted him on the head. Fievel looked up as if to ask why Evander wasn't whole-heartedly returning the embrace. More pressing than cuts and bruises, one of the professor's arms was wrapped in a sling.

"You're alive," Drago said.

A tired smile creased Evander's lips.

"What about Mina?" Drago pressed, "and Coty?"

Evander's smile stretched a little thinner. "They're among the wounded—more grievously than this, but they're expected to recover." He looked around the road, the wall and field. "The dragons hit here, too?"

"No one was badly hurt," Drago replied. "This isn't anything like the damage to the city, is it?"

"There isn't much of a city left," Evander mouthed.

As quietly as he had uttered it, as earnestly as they wished Fievel would not hear him, the boy's attention snapped to Evander.

"Or the fort," he added as a deliberate change of subject. "That, I don't understand. There were non-human casualties as well."

"Either way, I'm glad you're all right," Drago said. He glanced to the boy, and then back to the professor, "for his sake."

"What about Teddy?"

"She's with Nerissa and Baylee," Fievel informed him.

Drago chuckled. "My nieces. She fits right in."

Evander's expression softened. He reached down and held his son against him. "That's good," he said. "I hate to impose, Drago, but they'll have to stay a while longer. I hope they haven't been too much trouble."

"Oh, no," Drago assured, "they're no trouble at all."

Evander nodded. "Would you consider adoption?"

"Adoption?" Drago glanced to the village, where he spied the three little girls giggling and chasing after one another.

"After all of this, I think it's in her best interests not to return to the city," Evander said. "She's been through too much, and... if I'm honest, even I don't want to go back, not to the state that it's in. She needs a fresh start, so if she's happy here, I'd like it if she could stay."

Drago pressed his lips together and lowered his palette. "I think we could make that work."

"Good," Evander sighed. "And there's one more favor I need of you."

"And that is?"

"I need you to come back to city when you can—the sooner the better."

"What for?"

Evander looked around Drago as the giggles grew louder, and he glanced back in turn. The girls were running their way—Baylee in the lead, and Nerissa and Teddy on her heels. They were still some distance from the peak, and at their height they might not have seen Drago and Feivel's company.

"I want to leave a message," Evander said, "a warning. Though not so plain that the everyman will still understand in a few hundred years as that could cause panic for future generations."

"I don't follow."

"I want you to paint murals," Evander clarified, "deep under the city, in the place that was least affected by all of this, in case it must last through more than another thousand years. There's not much that we can do, here and now, but if we could prepare our descendants for the worst, we may prevent this catastrophe from repeating itself."

Drago nodded.

The girls were almost upon them, their giggles getting louder still. It wasn't until they were almost to the top of the hill that they saw Evander.

"Professor!" Teddy cried. She followed Fievel's lead and attached herself to him.

The professor hugged them both with his good arm. "Teddy, there's something we'd like to ask you."

She frowned, glancing up at Evander. He was looking to Drago.

Drago bit his lip before offering her a tiny, hopeful smile. "What would you think of having Nerissa and Baylee for cousins?"

"Cousins?" Teddy asked. She peered doe-eyed at the other girls. Nerissa and Baylee grinned back.

"Yes, cousins."

Teddy stared at Drago. Her eyes came alight with understanding, and her smile returned. "I can be a Russell?!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>

This is the longest story I've completed to date—milestone, hooray~ It's been an great exercise in novel-length fiction—exploring world mechanics, history, and confrontation. I still need practice incorporating the atmosphere, setting, and physical descriptions of characters, making sure that everything relevant and necessary/desired is adequately covered, and without falling into exposition traps. And working on more realistic consequences and stuff.

I should have dropped sooner who the Silverlake of the story was, and some hints about Kelvin, though the Russell was always meant for the very end. Is there even a Rothschild in the story? who knows. ;D I also would have liked to mention that Teddy stole one of the orbs from Gil in that hug in chapter 23; no one noticed, and it wasn't significant in context, so it never came up.

There are certain scenes that I still consider rewriting, but I really shouldn't—original stories beckon. There are also choices in this that I might reconsider if it was still in the planning stages, and actions taken that would differ. Paralleling certain things about the game was deliberate, but how different would things have been if Lucian was a mage or a priest? What if it was focused more on guild work and Coty had stayed in the warrior guild and Sawyer and Mina the bandit guild? Even so, it was a fun ride.

As is the fate of all my fan characters, they'll be adapted to original fiction (already plotting). It'll be a few years, however, before I dive into them 'cause I need a break from the characters. :'D Everyone who stuck with it to the end, I'm curious. What were your favorite and least favorite scenes? Characters? If it was your story, what would you have done differently? (No worries, I am totally cool with criticism.) And I don't care if it's years after the epilogue goes up that you're reading this—I'll always be curious. :3

Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story!


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